Surreal Sights
by JustAJackie
Summary: Rhianna, a girl whose mutant powers manifested young and is running away from all she ever had, is off to New York. Stories of life, love, and friendship from a 'insane' person's point of view. PyroxOC, maybe a little GambitxRogue later on
1. Out With the Old, in With the New

_**HI EVERYBODY! Yeah, this is the edited first Chapter, more detail and considerably less confusing. A touch longer, but hey. I'm **_**educating**_** the world :P**_

_**So far I own all of the characters, but I'm just gonna go ahead and say that I don't own X-Men: Evolution or anybody from it. So yeah.**_

"Honey, you know it's just stage, too. It'll pass, and you love it here!" My father-Christopher- stated with that infuriatingly calm way of his, holding his hands out in a forgiving stance.

"It's your fault I'm caught in this damn place!" I spat at him. He took a small step back, startled. I continued with, "I _hate_ it here, and I always have! Quit telling me that it'll all get better in the end when we both know it won't!"

"We moved here to start a new life. To leave the old behind." His voice was a steely calm and his glare followed me as I paced across the room. That argument had been repeated so many times, it almost sounded rehearsed.

"You just want to forget Mom." I snarled. He glared at me, but with more than a little hurt in his eyes.

"You know that's not true."

"Ooh, whee, my wife just _died_, so let's move to California and live happily ever after. Don't think about it and it'll just _all go away_. Right?" My voice was forcefully whimsy and light, but there was a definite venomous undertone.

I held my fingers to my temples, wincing at the sudden jam of pain in my head. There was sheen of sweat across my brow, I knew, because holding back those mental monsters was no easy task. It wasn't just mental concentration anymore, it was physical, too. I wished I could just let them go on him-bastard he was-but I knew I wouldn't. I wasn't strong enough to suffer the consequences, and I didn't hate him _that_ much.

"Room. Now." He growled, furious but hurt. There was no arguing with that tone. I wasn't the kind to throw temper tantrums and stomp my feet and slam the door, but I did so anyways, acutely aware of the building pressure in my head. The second that the door to my room clicked shut, I screamed and collapsed to the floor. The things I had been trying so hard to keep in slammed around in my head and I was thrown roughly from one world to the next over and over.

My diamond palace, in all its sparkling beauty and rainbow halls. Blood-stained walls in an unfamiliar church. "Goodbye, mon ange." The last words of my mother, Victoire, echoed through my mind, getting colder and angrier each time. A baby wildebeest getting ripped down by lions, staining the savannah grass with blood. A fallen angel. A beautiful pale girl falling to the ground and laying there, unmoving, her once-trusting green eyes still open to the pain around her. A chess board. A plummeting king. Wars, starting with swords and catapults and ending with nuclear bombs. The endless screams of women losing their children and men losing their lives. And, lastly, a pair of red-on-black eyes filled my mind. Traitor, just like the rest of them.

Once again, I woke up in the hospital, head still swimming with the terrible essence of the place, just like the first time. A nurse that I recognized from previous visits quickly brought me a bucket to throw up in, and I couldn't concentrate with the nausea swimming around my head. Once again, the doctors saying that there was nothing wrong, pulling Dad aside for a secret conversation. Once again, they left with the parting words of 'just make sure you get plenty of sleep, and stay hydrated.' As if that would help.

The way back in the car was silent as I stared mindlessly through the window. The silence was uncomfortable for him, no doubt, but not for me. I liked silence. With silence, you could always hope for noise. With darkness you could always hope for light. It sounded silly, but I always had something to hope for when there was nothing.

"Dad…?" But there was always that one thing in the back of my mind. The question I knew how he would answer, but needed to ask anyway.

"Why can't you just control it? Hold them back? It scares the crap out of everyone, makes them suspicious, and I can't keep paying these hospital bills." His voice was cold at first, but it sank as the sentence continued.

"Then stop taking me to the hospital!" I spat, glaring at him, "It's not like that have any good advice, anyways."

"Why do you just let yourself go like that?" He persisted.

"Why do I even both with talking to you? You don't understand, you never will understand, and I don't want to bother trying to make you understand. You honestly think I _want_ to be like this?" He finally went silent with defeat and pretended to pay attention to the road.

"Au revoir, celui qui a été une fois aimé." (Goodbye, one who was once loved.) I closed his bedroom door and walked through the house, giving everything one last look. I couldn't help but smile at the old books from my childhood, dusty and lined up on the shelves. _Le Petit Prince_, that had always been my favourite.

I sighed as I tried to remember something, anything, from France. But nothing came up. Dad had forbidden me to talk in French when he was around, because it reminded him too much of his little lost Victoire. But I would talk to myself in my room, quietly so as not to be heard, running over different conversation and situations. But he just couldn't stand the language anymore. It even got so bad he would ignore me for days if my accent slipped, even just a little. It reminded him too much of Mom. So I could speak fluent French and English with a perfect American accent. I left through the front door, in the middle of the night, with only a heavy backpack and an old, simple silver bracelet of Mom's. Dad had always said I knew nothing of the real world. Well, now I was going to prove him myself that plenty of kids had done just fine running away younger than sixteen, I leaped off into the night.

"I'll miss you forever, but I'm off into the world again," I whispered softly in French to my current caretaker and best friend, Alexandrine.

I said my parting words to the short, plump woman, the person who had watched me so carefully during the last two years. She was like an older sister, protective and careful and loving. Yes, I had been living in a tiny room in the back of her small restaurant, but it was a hell of a lot better on the streets.

Not wanting to forget my natural-born language, I had slowly made my way up to eastern Canada, Quebec to be exact, where quite a few still spoke the beautiful speech. But I was eighteen now, and I was going back to America. New York, to be precise.

I didn't know what made me want to go there, but it was just… I needed to. I couldn't quite explain it, though. Perhaps it had something to do with being the farthest well-known city away from where_ he_ lived, in the outskirts of Los Angeles. Maybe it was because of the size of the city, the anonymity. Every day with new faces, nobody who could judge you personally with a single glance. Yes, I could have retreated to the countryside in somewhere like Wisconsin or Ohio, but I wasn't going to give _him_ the satisfaction of me hiding out in a rural area, living inside an abandoned barn. No way. I don't hide from anybody.

No matter how many times I refused, Alexandrine had insisted on buying me a plane ticket to New York, but I had worked extra-hard and secretly shoved some of my tips into the restaurant tip jar, which she kept in a private stock for repairs on the restaurant and for making sure that we had something to fall back on in slow months. Just to give a little something back. Trying to blink a tear out of her eye Alexandrine gave me a little push out the door, mumbling about how she wouldn't want me to be late. But her voice was choked, and I could see how much she wanted to cry.

_**Don't forget to review and criticize! Love y'all!**_


	2. Lions, Angels, and Illusions

_**Hi again! Edited Chapter 2, and I just want to say that the locations in this chapter make no sense, so if you're one of those people who just love to double-check things with maps, it won't prove anything :D Yeah, so… Enjoy.**_

_**And I do not own X-Men: Evolution or any of its characters**_

Plane rides were officially one of the most horrible things that had ever happened to me. The people in the front give the announcements too quickly to understand, I was on the seat with the emergency exit (More legroom, but I would have to save people in a crash, which I didn't think I could do), my neighbor passenger was an old man who snored like a lawnmower the whole time, and there was a young child on the plane who had to complain about everything. Not to mention the lady across the aisle with a small dog and the fact that I was allergic. What fun, right? I didn't even get the window seat.

I forced myself to take a deep breath as my ears once again popped painfully. Just another-I glanced at my watch-hour. I sighed, trying to get comfortable. That might not seem like a long time to experienced plane-travelers, but the trip from Montreal-Trudeau Airport to John F. Kennedy International Airport, I decided, was very unpleasant. And then there were the crowds. Ugh.

One man who had 'accidentally' bumped into me and just 'happened' to cock a feel with a dumb smirk received a slap to the face, complete with a few mental blows that just _conveniently escaped_ at that exact moment. In my jittery state, I was been in no mood to deal with his crap. He'd probably be out of the hospital in a few days anyways, in which time I would be gone and forgotten. I hoped he had learned a lesson, though.

Instead of heading towards the heart of the city like the majority of the passengers, I headed away from it. I was in New York, yes, but had nothing but my mother's bracelet, my backpack, and sixty bucks in my pocket. Luckily I was smart enough to come well-prepared and headed out bus by bus with a hot dog or knish break here and there to a woody part of New York, away from the big apple. I was slightly tempted to get one of the "I 3 New York" shirts, but it was probably just a waste of money, anyways.

I hiked the rest of my way out, finding a good, sturdy stick to help me with the slippery parts. When I was near the road I saw a_ Bayville, 10 miles_ sign, so I could check my map to see exactly where I was later.

I hiked further away from the road, and upon finding a flat piece of land with decent tree cover, started to set up camp. Fire was out of the question and gathered _way_ too much unneeded attention, but I had hiked longer than expected to find a temporary site. Racing the sun, I quickly set up camp (simple, just a small, discreet camouflage tent with a thin mattress and multiple blankets to fight the early autumn chill). I would need to get more as winter descended, and intended to start job searching once I found somewhere safe. After eating two sandwiches, albeit slightly smooshed ones, I fell asleep with the _Bayville, 10 miles_ sign in my head.

_Crack!_

I jolted awake with my heart beating like crazy, waiting for… waiting for something. But my ears detected nothing but the sounds of the night. Convincing myself it was just an animal or a falling branch, I lay back down again, knowing I wouldn't be able to sleep.

After tossing and turning for what felt like a couple of hours (But upon checking my watch with the flashlight realizing that only fifteen minutes had passed), I felt a familiar pressure start to build up in my head. With a sigh, I figured I'd better just let it out gently instead of holding it in until near-explosion, like what had happened at home.

Under my sturdy little one-person tent, I let my illusions slowly invade. I took slow deep breaths, knowing that the little monsters inside of my head, though a touch childish, were easily provoked. I gently sank down into my diamond palace, still amazed at its beauty. Even after more than a decade, I was enchanted with the marvelous rainbow-reflecting halls and glorious architecture. But it was lonely, too. The palace, as I liked to call it, was actually a church. The church my mother's funeral had been held in. Her coffin was still there at the front on top of a dais, the only thing not made of diamond, still open but empty.

I walked up to it like I had many times before, kneeling down in front of it. Restingmy tired head gently on its ornate, carved wood sides I closed my eyes. I wasn't sure of religion or anything, but I liked to imagine that she was listening when I spoke with her.

"Mama? It's me, Rhianna." I paused, unsure if I heard her gentle voice whisper in my ear or not. "I hope you're not mad with me 'bout what I said to Dad. I didn't mean it-" I paused-"Well, not all of it. I hope you're proud of me, too, I'm tryin' so hard. I miss you a whole bunch, I just couldn't deal with it anymore. And I hope you watch over Alexandrine, if you can, like you watch over me. She's a real sweet woman." I smiled at sent her mental picture of Alexandrine's big-toothed grin, tough-as-nails personality and long, wavy hair. "Watch over dad, too. He misses you, maybe even more than me, but he really needs to figure some things out." I paused a few seconds as a strange feeling came over me…

My palace shattered like glass, and I panicked as some of the falling shards scraped through my arm. I jolted awake; trying to find what had ruined my… dream? But there were no noises in the forest. I could never tell whether I was awake or asleep anymore. Regardless, by the darkness of my tent and the sound of the crickets, I knew it was still nighttime.

With a sigh, I got up to take a walk. In hindsight it probably wasn't that good of an idea, but it seemed better than twisting and turning in a tent until morning came. Despite the probably-short amount of time I had slept (Or at least I assumed that I was sleeping), I felt fully rested and awake. But the forest seemed much more…ominous at night. Wrapping the thick blanket closer around me I continued to walk, jumping at every noise. I wasn't scared of the dark, but I had always been terrified my illusions would come chasing me and I'd scream, unable to wake up. Remembering something my Dad had said about how nothing it in the dark that isn't around in the light, I stood straighter and relaxed my brisk step.

_Crack!_

I froze. This was definitely not a dream, and something was coming my way! _Calm down_, I berated myself crossly. It was probably just a raccoon or something. But the little cracks and creaks followed me as I walked through the forest and worse, I couldn't remember the direction I had come from.

The light sky illuminated as if with fireworks, and I turned to look in wonder. Not fireworks, but fire. I frowned slightly. There were fiery horses stampeding across the night sky. Well, that was a new one. Horses. Hmm… come to think of it, I'd never seen a real horse before. But I felt certain that this was way cooler.

There was a feral snarling sound from behind me, and I jolted out of my trance. Shaking myself to be sure it wasn't just my mind playing tricks on me. But an illusion would've shattered. Eyes going wide, I did what any sensible person would've done at that moment: run. I could hear heavy panting behind me, though it wasn't growly like the other noise. Another person? Was somebody trying to catch up with me? I pumped my legs even harder, not paying attention to where I was going. Pain jerked through my body, and I bounced backwards onto the forest floor. Barely conscious, I raised my eyes up and hid my mild surprise. A strange-looking giant of a man with glinting skin was looking down on me, startled. He didn't even seemed effected that I had plowed right into him.

With that amusing thought in my head, I floated back into unconsciousness.

I glided through the corridors of my mind with a renewed sense of urgency, locking doors with keys and passwords. Setting traps. Someone was inside.

_Let's see how well the intruder copes with these_, I thought, smiling. A small projection flashed onto the diamond wall, and I frowned at the small figure entering the first trap.

The moment he stepped onto the drawbridge of my fortress, I sent out my dear pet Abasalom to greet him. To many he was horrible, yes, but beautiful as well. The man would only see a humongous white lion with four glowing red eyes and two twirling tails. No doubt he wouldn't be able to see Abasalom's beauty or strength, wouldn't be able to appreciate him. Nobody could but me.

The man closed his eyes and his brow furrowed in concentration. Abasalom was lifted up off of the ground telepathically, but fought against it and came down on his attacker, roaring. The man didn't even blink, but pushed him into the moat with one sweep of his hand. I heard Abasalom's screams as he fell into the torrents and clenched my teeth. How had he beaten him so easily? This man had mind abilities of his own. He came across the bridge, to a huge door with a picture of an angel on the front.

"Mon Ange." I made a hissing noise as the doors slid effortlessly open. He had passed the first two obstacles like nothing! He probably didn't speak French judging by his accent, but how had he known the password? No… His voice sounded more on the Italian side, almost. But, regardless, he still knew the password. Angelic wings erupted from my back, glowing white with purity. I frowned and pulled them in. No way this monkey-like man would make it past the second door.

He slowly read the wording on the giant passageway of tarnished silver, not bothering to admire the detailing in the calligraphy or intricate etching on the sides. Typical.

I am the most deadly

Though you have beaten me

And know that my four eyes

Are keen as they can be

Know this is a test

Of Strengh

Of Will

Of Me

But you will die and rot right here

Ruining my fun

Because my mighty name is

The man closed his eyes, frowning in concentration. I felt him snaking through my mind. My memories.

"No!" I screeched. The beautiful wings on my back became bloodstained and I cried out as the broke, falling limply to my sides.

"'The Great Abasalom.'" The man was painfully calm as he entered the hallway,now filled with bloody diamonds. He saw only a girl with stained wings crying on the floor. Because now all of my precious secrets were his. It was all ruined.

But he did not brag, he simply held out his hand. I was destroyed, and I had no dignity left to protect. I took it, and the world shattered around me.

_**Hope you enjoyed, don't forget to review and criticize! How can I get better if nobody tells me anything?**_


	3. Return of an Old Somewhat Friend

_**Kay-o. This is the third chapter of Surreal Sights, though I would hope the people aren't delusional enough to not realize that :P. Okay... on with the boring stuff.**_

_**I don't own X-Men: Evolution or anything that has to do with it. Rhianna and all of the other people here you don't know are mine.**_

_**Okey dokey, Chapter 3 is edited. Enjoy!**_

I sank to the floor, holding back tears. Wherever I was, the lights were bright like a hospital, with that same cold, metal smell. _Mon ange_. That beautiful, beautiful voice… Had I passed out? Had I been in a coma, perhaps? It had happened before. I tried to remember. I was camping… I remembered a sign that said _Bayville, 10 miles_. My head felt strangely clear, but I ignored the feeling. Where was I? Had my departure with Alexandrine really just have been two days ago?

"Y'okay?" The voice was soft. And familiar. An image of a boy playing alone in a hospital playroom came to mind unbidden.

"I'm certain I'm not." I spat, trying to snap a couple of illusions into that damn Cajun's skull. There was no release of anger, of power. No nothing.

"So'ry, Rhianna, but it ain't gon' work." I glared up at mocking red-and-black eyes. "Mastermind did somet'in funny wit ya head." He rolled his finger in a circle next to his ear, the crazy sign.

"Remy. Can't say I'm glad to see you. Though I must say you're as _mature_ as ever," I sneered sarcastically. After a quick study of the room and deciding that there was no eminent danger, I turned back to him. "Remy, what the hell am I doin' here? Is this one of them fancy insane asylums or somethin'? It would explain your _unexpected_ appearance."

"_Non_, not'in like dat," he shook his head with his hands up. It seems that he was trying to seem harmless, but that was pretty much impossible for him. "Ya simply was in da wron' place at da wron' time. An' I usually go by Gambit now'days. "

"Gambit?" I smirked, "Ain't that a touch too… no, actually it suits you." I paused, amazed at my own calm. So is this more like a hostage situation, or an unwelcome houseguest kind of thing?"

He paused and pretended to thing for a long second, of which I doubted he was capable. "If da man in charge fin' use fo ya, it's prison, if no yer a rat dat'll be kicked to da curb."

"…You're still an asshole, you know that?" Another pause. I had discovered over recent years that I was no good with small talk. "So… how the hell'd you end up _here?_ And yes, I want to whole story. And startin' from the beginning." He started to open his mouth but I waved my hand to silence him." Why were you always in that hospital?" He smirked and moved his hands like a scale, as if debating if he should spill. Still infuriating. "Come_ on_, I have a right to know!"

Remy (or Gambit) chuckled, but sobered up instantly. "Did ya_ mere_ make it?" I shook my head and he took a deep breath before starting. "I was left at birt' when ma parents saw my eyes. One'a da doctors in da hospital too' pity on moi and too' meh t' France wit' 'im. I grew up in da hospital, and 'e said dat mah parents were always sick t' keep Child Protection away. One of da nurses, real nice _femme_, snuck food off da carts fo' me and such. But da law was startin' t'get a bit suspicious, and he too' me back t' N'Awlins. I don't know what happened t' 'im, but one day he jus' didn't come back t' da apartment. Real loss. _Quand même_, I took to… getting' by wit' other means-" He smirked again and I fought the urge to slap him, "-and I got noticed by _un homme_ by da name of Jean-Luc. You don't need ta know mo' 'bout 'im, but I stayed wit' 'is crowd a while and since den made my way up here." I gave him a pointed look to tell him that I knew he was leaving a lot out, but I also knew that if he didn't want to say something, he wasn't going to say it. "So how'd y' find your way down here?"

I grinned. "That-" I said, "-Is a story for another day."

He pretended to look hurt. "I always know you were a cheater at heart." Just then, we received some rather odd-looking company. A huge man with strict dark hair but strangely soft eyes and another with a bounce in his step sporting an orange-and-red jumpsuit.

"Y'all got some serious fashion issues," I chuckled before getting up.

Remy took charge of all of the introductions; you know the whole Pyro-Rhianna-Rhianna-Pyro-Colossus-Rhianna-Rhianna-Colossus thing. I was about to ask about all of the weird names when I finally remembered something.

Furious again, I screeched, "Where is the creep?" and all of them jumped back in surprise. Well, all except Remy, but not much surprises him. "The freak that got in my head," I snapped, glaring at their blank faces. The redhead one-Pyro- chuckled and I wheeled on him.

"You think this is _funny?_"

"Yes, ac'ually, I do," he smiled, leaning back against the wall. Damned cocky Australian.

"You… you mean Mastermind, yes?" Colossus suggested tentatively. He had a thick Russian accent that fit his appearance perfectly.

"Half my height with the face not even a mother could love?"

"_Oui, d_at be 'im," Remy smirked, "But 'e already left. Magneto did' need 'im for nothin' more."

"And Magneto is…" I collapsed back onto the floor, trying to take in everything.

"The man who runs this here _fine_ establishment," Pyro sang cheerily. I glanced up at him. Something seemed… off somehow. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something didn't seem right with him. Shaking it off and muttering something along the lines of 'I suppose I'll just have to go and _thank_ him for that,' I left the room with an angry huff.

"Ex-girlfriend or something?" Pyro inquired Remy with a strange expression.

"Dankfully, _non_."

Storage boxes were stacked all around me, with sizes ranging from able to carry a couple plates to a bulldozer. After a quick search I found a suitable stack of them next to a window and I climbed up to stare out at the moon. She was so beautiful, so pure, and so dependable. Nobody human should've ever gone up there; she deserved at least to stay a mystery. Maybe she didn't want anyone to see her dark side. But no, human curiosity unmasks everything. Destroys it, too. Maybe it's because they're scared. But she was still beautiful, the only kind of beauty that lasts forever, as she took her midnight stroll through the sky. Every single night. She never just decided that she was tired and didn't want to do it anymore, no. She had a whole solar system depending on her, like the bottom card in a huge house of them. Doesn't get all of the attention like the last card when it's placed on top, but kept on holding up anyways.

My mind wandered back to the man-Mastermind. I bothered me how easily he had broken through. And how much about me did he know? I didn't suppose that there was anything I could do about it, but it was alarming. I had never met a mutant with powers like mine (Not that I had met many mutants) but it didn't seem that I would stand much of a chance against him. I let out a small cry and gripped my head as the pressure started to build up again. _Well, at least the blocking effect wasn't permanent_, I thought sourly.

"You okay, shiela?" I felt the placement of weight on the boxes change, but I didn't need to look up to know who it was.

"Yeah, it happens all the time," I offered him a soft smile and met his blue-eyed gaze, "But it's hard to get used to." Nothing more was said, and we stayed in silence. It seemed different than the kind of silence that I used to know. That silence was always pressing down like a physical weight on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. As if all of the night was reaching down your throat and smothering you. No, this was a good silence. The silence of two people content to say nothing.

The moon moved above us slowly, hiding herself from our eyes. Maybe she was shy, despite her grace. A memory of a beautiful blonde woman falling over from a dance laughing came to mind. She had failed, and couldn't be happier. Why couldn't the world be like that?

Pyro shifted and cleared his throat uncomfortably, rousing me from my thoughts. "I could take ya to-well, show ya your room, if y'like." I looked at him a second, not comprehending, then nodded. The last thing I remember from that night is weaving exhaustedly through the halls with him supporting me, and rapidly falling into dreams on something soft.

"Logan, I need to talk to you a moment," Charles Xavier said, hands folded thoughtfully beneath his chin. "Privately."

"Yeah, yeah, bub. I'm coming." Logan glanced around the large room at the younger mutants, all talking or playing video games, before following the Professor down the hallway. "What's this about?"

The Professor paused to collect his thoughts before speaking. "I was following your mission in the woods last night with Cerebro-" the Wolverine winced as if it was a sensitive spot with him "-and all of the mutants there were accounted for. Except one." The Professor sighed before continuing. "There was somebody-an extra mutant- there. The thing that's bothering me is that Cerebro couldn't give me a name or any information, not even the basics. Your group was chasing the Acolytes, correct?" Logan nodded. "But nobody that you didn't recognize was there."

"Well… I did catch another scent, but I brushed it off as nothing. Figured it wouldn't make a difference, anyways," he growled, not with guilt, but frustration. "And before go through my mind to find out anyways, I didn't see him. Either saw what was happening and ran, or-"

"Or the mutant is with the Acolytes." Both of their expressions darkened. "But we, of course, have no way of finding out if that's true, or whether it's willing or not." He sighed for the second time in as many minutes, and dismissed the shorter, stocky mutant with a tired wave of his hand.

"I know. I don't like either, Chuck."

_**Don't forget, reviews and criticism! **_


	4. Flashback of a Regretted Life

_**Onward to the Next Chapter!**_

_**I do not own X-Men: Evolution or any of its characters.**_

_**P.S. Can whoever reviews can you please give me a good suggestion to put out in the story next? I'm rather lost right now, with ideas but not way to get to them. Please, and thank you for the people who are actually reading this.**_

Being here wasn't exactly a prison, but it wasn't like I could do whatever I wanted. Magneto apparently didn't trust and me, so I was forced to stay inside. In many ways it was worse than the plane flight. At least the plane had little TVs.

Sometimes I would help Piotr (Or Colossus, but I preferred his real name) with the boxes, though I really didn't get why he was constantly moving them. And it always left me feeling very weak because while he was hauling crates as big as eighteen-wheelers, I was stuck with the little boxes that seemed they would barely fit a small dog. Sometimes at the end of the day I would watch him paint (Which he was quite good at but really shy about) or he would tell me some stories about his life in Russia. I thought that he missed his native country a lot.

Remy was gone most of the time doing something or another (When I teased him about it, he would describe himself as Magneto's right-hand man. I would describe him was Magneto's bitch. To each their own.) I was a little jealous that he could pretty much come and go as he pleased, but I was assured that I would be able to eventually.

Pyro was fun to hang out with despite his rather destructive disposition. He _extremely_ enjoyed catching things on fire, hence the nickname, and to be honest I enjoyed watching it. Sometimes he would start dancing and swaying around in exotic patterns, playing with the fire like a toy. Also, he helped me to learn how to fight without using my… abilities, and filled me out a bit on the X-Men. They were rivals more than enemies, they were the 'good guys,' and often got in the way of Alcolyte missions. Strangely enough, I didn't mind being with the supposed bad guys.

I had spent a couple of weeks with the Acolytes, and though I was improving in fighting skills, didn't stand much of a chance against any of them. I thought about that after Pyro pinned me onto the ground again, sitting on me.

"I find this to be completely unfair." I snapped, hauling myself off of the floor.

"Only to you, mate. I think it's fun." He lunged at me when I was still off-balance, almost knocking me over again, but I punched him in the gut as hard as I could. He let out a little '_umph_' and took a step backwards, so I slammed my foot in below his knee. This, though not nearly as cool-looking as some fancy flippy move, was extremely effective. He fell onto the ground in a sort of crouching position, holding his shin.

I walked over to help him up, but before I could blink _I_ was flat on my back and he was on top of me with a delighted look in his eyes.

"You cheated!" I protested, feeling my face go red as I realized our position. He obviously noticed too, because a dumb smirk came onto his face.

"This Bluey doesn't have rules, so how could I 'ave cheated?" I tried to roll over, but he grabbed my wrists and pinned them to the ground. A slow smile came onto my face and he started to look a little nervous.

"No rules, huh?" He made a strange yeeping noise as I prodded his mind a little bit and quickly ran off to hide behind a sofa. After some sessions Magneto (he was studying me, apparently), I was getting better at controlling the illusion. Laughing, I pushed myself off the ground and slowly walked over, pausing dramatically on the other side. Before I could make it all the way around Pyro jumped up, balancing on the armrest, holding a large pillow at his side. I gave him a look that clearly said 'What is wrong with you?'

"Choose your weapon!" He shouted dramatically, thrusting the pillow out in one hand like a sword. Deciding to go along, I grabbed the other pillow from the couch and bent my knees a touch in a fighting stance. "Well chosen." His eyes narrowed, and he jumped.

Gambit opened the fridge and then closed it again with a defeated sigh. He had just gotten back from a mission scoping the X-Men mansion _all night_, only to return to no food. His stomach growled loudly and he glanced down, muttering, "Don' wor'y, _mon ami_, dis Cajun knows. What da-" He was cut off abruptly as Pyro jumped on top of the table, wielding a pillow, screeching 'YOU KILLED MY FATHER!' Gambit's face changed to an ever deeper state of confusion as Rhianna shouldered the redhead off the table, slamming her own pillow into his face and screaming in an equally dramatic tone, 'YOU KILLED YOUR OWN DAMN FATHER! YOU JUST DON'T REMEMBER NOTHIN' 'CAUSE THE OUTBACK SUN FRIED YOUR BRAIN!' She hopped off of the table and they were gone just as quickly as they came, leaving the dining set in a state of disarray.

Remy LeBeau smiled (No wait-smirked. The Ragin' Cajun does not_ smile_), pulling a cushion off of the nearest chair. This would definitely be more fun than any_ stupide_ mission that Magneto gave him.

Imagine Magneto's surprise when he walked into the main room to find three powerful, well-trained (or so he thought) mutants in the process of what was probably one of the most extreme pillow fights that had ever taken place on the face of the earth. As he watched, Gambit ripped his pillow apart, charging all of the feathers, and tossed them into the air. Pyro and Rhianna squealed, running to hide behind Colossus, who quickly coated himself with his natural armor. Each feather exploded like a small firecracker and all occupants of the room fell to the floor laughing. All except one.

"What are you _doing?_" he boomed, furious. Gambit, Pyro, and Colossus instantly shot into a line, though had obvious difficulty in trying not to smile. Magneto's glare slowly turned to Rhianna, sitting on the floor.

"He started it," she muttered with down cast eyes, pointing at Pyro. The Australian winced visibly and hissed under his breath, 'Traitor.'

Remy paused a moment before saying, "Gambit sec'uns dat." Probably trying to save his own ass.

"Pyro," Magneto said in a calm, but commanding, voice, "You will have an extra two hours of training with Sabretooth." The others chuckled. "Rhianna, Gambit." The laughter suddenly ceased. "You, too. In the real world, you can't give up those in your group, especially not to save yourself." Gambit's whole body tensed and he frowned intensely at the floor as if he expected it to just shrivel away at his frustration. Rhianna just frowned at Magneto. "You will start tomorrow."

"But-" Pyro started, but the look he got from Magneto shut him up real quick. "Yes, sir," he pouted, kicking the ground with his foot. Magneto left the room rubbing his temples. He could have sworn that after Pietro and Wanda were teenagers that he wouldn't have to deal with these kinds of things anymore. He didn't know how wrong he was.

"Shit." I barely stopped myself from falling onto my face. I could practically feel the force of Sabretooth's joy coming off of him in waves. Bastard. Well, I suppose he just loves to go in for the kill. To make things worse, my eyes were watery and my nose was stuffed up. I was beginning to think I might be allergic to him. I stayed down a moment, extremely uncomfortable. After nearly an hour and a half of this, I was sweating in places that I didn't even know_ could _sweat. Remembering the trick Pyro pulled on me I twisted around with my leg out, knocking Sabretooth on the ground but causing myself to stumble, unbalanced. He was heavier than I thought.

He was up again before me and lifted his leg to kick me in the side, but I grabbed his foot and twisted over, slamming him onto the mercilessly un-padded ground. Losing his patience he grabbed me by the neck and slammed me to the wall, disgusting nails extended. I could see Pyro and Gambit jump up from where they were sitting on the other side of the room, but they seemed kind of blurry and out-of-focus.

With a wistful smile, I drifted down slowly into a different world.

Someone grabbed me from behind and I struggled fruitlessly. When I glanced down there were four paper-white arms wrapped around my torso. Normally that would be strange, but in my head it didn't seem so at all. Pictures started to flow into my mind little by little, but they seemed… different from the usual ones somehow.

My mother was dragged out of the light and tossed into the darkness, an innocent smile on her face. A huge field with children playing. I fell into a hospital and watched two children chasing each other in the sterile hallway, a girl with long, curly brown hair and an older boy with strange eyes. Being tossed to the cement again and again, always getting up afterwards. Paintings of a woman with an innocent face clawed and destroyed. Christopher-my father-with an expression blank of emotion save anger, holding an orb in his hands. I instinctively reached out for it, knowing that it was important without knowing what it was. It shattered around me and the shards flew into the distance.

I relived my mother's funeral; saw my own reaction to the coffin. My naïve anger of her refusal to get up- she had promised to take me to the park before she got sick. I saw the fear in Grandma's eyes, and the fury. How had I not known that the fury was directed to my father? But what puzzled me most was Uncle Adrien. He was staring at Victoire's calm face, beautiful even in death. He whispered, "Not her. No," during one of the speeches and ran out of the hall as if he was going to be sick. He looked rather green.

I was on a plane, high above the Atlantic Ocean. The younger me was burying my face in a warm jacket, afraid of the black water that seemed to be not so far below. The clouds whispered my name, warning me to go back. A small school, forgotten by the government's money. A young boy with a nametag that said 'Hello, My name is Glenn' bullying me until he fell to the ground, screaming and holding his head. The whee-whoo sound of the ambulance as it rushed to the rescue.

The fear, the shunning. Most of all, the anger.

It evaporated in a warm, comfortable feeling. One with hard work and the love of another. Reunion, surprise, joy… It warped away from me, leaving me cold and empty.

I was thrown back to Christopher and his malevolent smile. He put both hands around the orb, which now had visible cracks in it. Suddenly I realized it was my life, and he had his hands around it as if threatening to crush it.

"No!" I opened my eyes, begging it to go away. _He_ was still there, still holding my life in his destructive hands. The white arms turned me to face their owner, and I looked into the eyes of an unknown creature. Snowy lips whispered, _This was you, but won't be. Decide who you _are_._

From somewhere I heard a voice, whispering, yelling, screaming. "Please wake up." I murmured to myself. I don't know how, but my eyes opened again and saw a few very familiar faces.

Remy, knowing.

Piotr, concerned.

Pyro, terrified.


	5. The Black Lion

_**Hi again everybody! This one was changed… quite a bit. But it's only 7:30 in the evening, so I'm doing good! Anyways, as always, enjoy yourself and I do not own X-Men: Evolution or any of its characters**_

"Please tell me not everybody saw that." I knew it was too good to be true, but still. It was worth trying. That was pretty much my whole life in a nut shell, and many parts I didn't want to be known. What was done was done, but the problem was that I didn't know _what was done_. Magneto had a clip board and flipped over a few sheets, occasionally writing something down. We were in a part of the building that I hadn't known about, with many whirring machines and tools and such.

"We all saw a lot, so you'll have to be more specific on what exactly 'that' is." He went back to muttering things like '_All but Sabretooth_,' and _'mutation'_ and things like that under his breath. "And as for Gambit, Pyro, and Colossus, their brains probably took your… illusions… as an assault and will most likely block them from memory." _Probably. Most likely._

"Can you tell me why I keep doing that? It's not very helpful. What if a mutant attacks me out _there_-" I gestured to the city outside of the window, "-and I pass out? Who knows what they would do with my body? They could kill me or tie me up, or… something!" Apparently, I wasn't in one of my creative moods.

"It's a defense mechanism," he muttered, glancing at another sheet, "The mutated part of your mind has more control over you than the conscious part, but doesn't always see fit to use that control. During times of extreme stress different hormones pass through your brain, for example, adrenaline, and it triggers the sudden response of sending you down into a semi-conscious state while attacking those around you, the perceived threat. The interesting part is that the most damage was done on Sabretooth, so somehow your subconscious mind knows what from around you is causing the most harm."

"What about the whole world that's living up there?" I pointed to my head. "Abasalom and the palace and stuff."

Magneto looked amused at the _and stuff_. Dumb Bucket-head. "It seems that the mutation also gives you access to your own imagination and puts you there for safekeeping until it's sure that the threat has passed."

"…Well, that's a dumb mutation. How am I supposed to fight if I'm passed out?" I frowned, thinking about how much easier it would be to charge stuff with kinetic energy or have a retractable metal skin. Magneto, on the other hand, looked amused.

"We'll work on that. Reach into your mind; try to find that part where the other world is." I looked at him like he was crazy.

"And for a second there, I thought you were actually intelligent! You want me to _purposely_ put myself in a coma?"

He glowered and I stood my ground, meeting his eyes. "If you're able to go _into_ your own mind, it would be reasonable to assume that you can bring yourself out, too. So during a time of emergency, you could keep yourself conscious."

"Oh, okay." Grudge gone, I lied down on the examining bed and closed my eyes. Unsure of what to do, I looked up at him.

"Try to just think about it first," he suggested. I thought about my diamond palace, each intricate Gothic arch and modern-shaped tile, I thought about the empty wooden coffin where my mother would never lay, the carvings and patterns in the sides. I thought about Abasalom and his glowing eyes, tails swishing around to signify that he was happy to see me. His soft white fur under my hands… his fur was under my hands. I peeked through one eye, then they flew open in surprise. I was in a humongous glowing meadow, tall green grass waving in the wind. The red sky, the color of a shining ruby, stretched to forever in the distance. Abasalom rested his chin on my head, and I giggled when I heard the purring in his throat.

But I could feel something else, too. A longing.

"You're lonely, huh?" He crouched down to his belly so that he was just under looking me in the eye. I looked around again. "It's beautiful…" His four red eyes sweeped the meadow and he seemed to nod in agreement. "But you're the only one here." I sat down between his paws and nuzzled his mane. He looked down into my eyes and I sighed in understanding. "You know why I can't do that. She's… dangerous." Somehow his whiskered face twisted into an almost pleading look. "I know, I know." I sighed, very close to giving in. "Do you promise that you can handle her?" He gave me a 'duh' expression. "Okay…"

We walked through the meadow, each step taking us ten meters. In no time we had passed the diamond palace and were standing in front of a grim, beat-up stone building. I supposed it had been majestic at one time, but the dark magic coming from inside was always chipping the bricks and unlocking the door a little bit more. I was only eleven when that door had been closed and locked, its inhabitant trapped inside. You see, whenever a new creation is made in my mind, it makes a sort of copy of itself automatically. A copy that I liked to believe had 'dark magic,' versus the 'light magic' of the original, though it was really more of an aura than magic.

Like with the elegant dragon Aitor in the South and his demented sister Louhi in the North, I could usually make an arrangements or deals with them. Generally, they were happy if they were away from the other. I could make no deal with the darker lion, so I trapped her in a sort of prison. To be honest, she had terrified me. I couldn't remember why, though.

The front door opened when I touched it and a chilly draft came to meet us. With a heavy sigh, I entered and Abasalom followed. We twisted and turned, and I tried to remember why it was so much bigger on the inside than it appeared on the outside.

I walked into the last hall, which was filled with dust and cobwebs. The towering door in front of me had been sealed when I was eleven years old. Looking back, I couldn't believe I was opening it after seven years just so I could make a lion feel less lonely. No, actually, I could. Smiling, I read the inscriptions on the door.

Au delà de cette porte se trouve la douleur

De la sorte seulement la plus terrible

Et quels mensonges en dedans n'est pas pour

Cruel ou faible au Coeur

And the translation underneath it. In case I ever forgot French, I didn't want to forget my reminder, my promise of disaster.

Beyond this door lies pain

Of the most terrible sort

And what lies within is not

For cruel or weak at heart

"I accept your terms and promise that this monster will benefit me or a loved one in a direct way." I wanted to hit myself for lying to me, no matter how ridiculous that sounded. I wished I could go back in time to change the password, something simple… _mon ange_.

The doors creaked as they opened (They didn't slide, I wasn't creative enough back then) and a figure opened her eyes. All four red ones..

Ariel stood up, testing the chains that kept her trapped experimentally. She was almost invisible, blending in perfectly with the darkness, the polar opposite of Abasalom's glowing white coat. But I could see her tails whipping around, in anger? Or simply frustration?. She had two, just like him. I closed my eyes, and the chains snapped.

"Follow your brother, lion d'Dieu." (Lion of God, referring to the meaning of the name). She whipped past me, roaring her freedom. Abasalom watched. Waiting.

"What is she-" My eyes widened as she jumped into the sky, propelling herself by some unseen force. She was headed to the outside world. Abasalom crouched so that I could hop onto his back. "Abasalom, we have to catch her!" He jumped up, too, paws smacking determinedly on the air around under him. Ariel was still far away, ripping at the protective layer that kept all of them in. I screamed and dug my head into Abasalom's mane, trying to fight the pain.

She was most likely going to try to attack the nearest person… the threat. Though I had been able to make no deal, no bargain with her, she was still created for the same reason as all of the others. To protect me.

Maybe I could direct her? So she could only hurt one, but not the others? But who knew how much damage she could do, what if she could kill? _Could_ imaginations kill? And I couldn't sacrifice somebody like that! Magneto… well, I didn't like him very much, but he took care of me. He helped me to understand my powers. No, I didn't like him, but he was probably more of a father than mine ever was. Piotr, with his heart so mismatched from his body and powers, he still had to go back to Russia! He still had to find his sister and paint the day away. Remy, well. He had been the only friend I had in that hospital, and despite his crude demeanor, he was loyal. And Pyro, the crazy idiot! He made me want to laugh and cry and question humanity all at the same time.

No. I would take her fury.

"Ariel! They never did anything!" She paused, amethyst eyes glinting. "_I'm_ the one who locked you up. _I'm_ the one who left you in there for all of those years. Take it out on _me!_" Abasalom growled challengingly at her, a feral snarl that I had never heard from him before. She roared her fury and charged us, tails lashing and paws churning. A shield appeared in my hand and a helmet on my head. As she came closer to us, I had to remind myself that I had chosen this when I put her in her prison.

Pain overcame my body as she crashed with me, the shield seeming to do nothing. I slipped off of Abasalom's back, tensing as the ground came up to meet me.

No. This was _my_ world. A gust of wind shot up from under me, dramatically slowing my fall. Ariel came down gracefully in a similar manner, hissing and spitting. Obviously, this was going to be more difficult than she had imagined. But she lost her interest in me. She eyed her brother, and I could see it in her face. His death would cause me more pain than mine.

"Abasalom!" I screamed, running towards the white figure. Ariel arrived first, slamming into him, and they locked into a fearsome duel. There were no fair fights of boxing or dashing. They were rolling over each other in a snarling, screeching whirlwind of tails and teeth. Without a moment's hesitation, I jumped into the fray.

"You're NOT going to hurt him!" Fury gave me strength and I pulled Ariel off of him, though I was unable to even wrap my arms all the way around her neck. Abasalom reared up on his hand legs and slammed his front paws into her chest, she screamed in agony as her rib cage shattered. Instead of landing the killing blow, he crouched down next to her and started to lick her ears, grooming her. For the first time, I noticed that her fur was matted and her claws were torn. I could see all of her ribs and also, the broken ones.

Abasalom looked at me pleadingly, almost pathetically. Ariel looked at me seemingly without interest, but her body was full of tension. I sighed.

"It's not my place to decide."

I opened my eyes and was back on the medical bed, Magneto standing over me.

"How long was I out?"

"About 5 and a half hours. I take it you can access and get out okay?"

I grimaced.

"_Oui._"


	6. Carnival

_**Wow. My chapters are just getting longer and longer. Yeah, I play a lot with point-of-view a lot in this one, so don't worry about it. Just experimenting. And thanks for all the favourites, guys, it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside :D**_

_**I do not own X-Men: Evolution or anyone/thing that comes along with it. I just own Rhianna and her mind (Which can count for ten people if you ask me.) I do not own any of the TV programs mentioned, either, or the game Monopoly . Enjoy!**_

(Rhianna's point of view)

Ariel had changed, I decided firmly. Then again, a shattered rib cage and multiple years in a crumbling prison could do that to someone. She had healed quickly with the help of the Northern Dragon, Aitor, who had always prided himself in his healing abilities. He didn't like others to watch, but I knew that he used many strange herbs and low, growly chanting words. After, Ariel and I had watched him together as he flew back to his mountain, awed by his long, delicately scaled wings and streamlined shape.

Her coat was now smooth and sleek, eyes sharp and claws-though she denied it- itching to be unsheathed. Though my threat from her had seemed to pass, I could feel the nervous tension radiating off of her in waves. Ariel needed something to _do_-I would need to think about that later.

The best results of the incident were, however, the changes in Abasalom. He would roar proudly to the sky when he thought I wasn't there and had a new spring in each paw step. His four red eyes glowed brighter and I had started to grow a new respect for him. In seeing the differences, I had to appreciate all of the loneliness that he had to go through beforehand, and the loss. Now he had a new friend, but not just that-for the first time, he had an equal. Before Ariel, Abasalom had been the head, the leader. Nobody would question him in the slightest, out of trust-or occasionally-fear. Suddenly he had someone that wasn't afraid to give him her two cents or get onto him about something she didn't believe was right. She made him think twice about everything, almost like a second mind.

I had been there with him, of course, but that's not the same as your own kind. Not from lack of wanting, I could never completely understand. Abasalom could confide in her if he needed, so that changed. Ariel wouldn't judge him because she would know the same feeling. They were equals. They could spar for a decade and nobody would win, they were one hundred percent deadlocked. Everything one could do, the other could as well. Though that led to many impromptu contests and competitions_, _it meant that he could finally relax. Well, sort of.

In the 'real world,' things were going about how they usually had, but with some new additions. For example (after much work from Pyro and me), we finally convinced Buckethead to buy us a TV! Worlds, dances, foods, and stories that I had never seen-or even heard of- before flickered in front of me on the small screen. In that one amazing, tiny box of electricity, I could see _everything_. You're probably thinking, 'Who _doesn't_ have a TV?" right? Well, I hope this answers you- I didn't. Dear old Dad wasn't the best at paying the bills, so he tossed our old one into the closet (never to be touched again) claiming that it knocked up the monthly electricity by tons. Well, the high monthly bills kept coming, but nevertheless the TV stayed in the closet. Probably just his stubborn side.

But there it was, right in front of me. My favourite shows were _Glee_ and _America's Got Talent_, but I liked some cartoons like _The Fairly Oddparents _and the super hero ones, too. I had had a free day, so I was watching some cheesy romantic comedy.

It wasn't very good, I decided, the acting was poor and they no doubt had a small budget. The girl probably should have dyed her hair a few less times, the guy could have at least pulled his pants up, and _of course_ their parents wouldn't notice if their children left in the middle of the night and used the _front door_. It's not like they would _hear_ or anything. No, not at all. Especially when the boy _drove his car _in front of her house. And come on, nobody even dresses like-

My criticizing thoughts froze where they stood.

It was beautiful.

Lights swirled around, shining brilliantly in the darkness that coated the rest of the world. Laughter, screams of joy, and light-hearted music swirled together into the air to make the kind of atmosphere that never ceases to elate the heart. You can't help but fall into its magical trance. As I watched, people lost their money in rigged fairground games and children begged their parents for one more cotton candy. Teenagers dared each other to go on the scariest roller coasters, the ones whose wooden bones stretched into the sky like an abandoned skeleton and whose long, thin legs wobbled each time the cart passed. I laughed as the couple played in the House of Mirrors, hiding from each other in some unspoken game, oblivious to the world around them. Suddenly the movie didn't seem so corny, the acting not so bad. He won her a humongous teddy bear, and I couldn't help but smile. Even though she really did need to do something about that hair.

_Carnival_. It sounded like happiness, like delight… it sounded like magic. Like endless years of starry blankets over artificial lights. Ferris wheels and swings moving to their own tunes, holding delicate hearts high above the ground, if only for a few moments, away from its dangers. Protecting them from their worries.

"Rhianna." I turned to see Piotr's massive frame squeezing through the doorway. "They have decided that they want to play some sort of game." I had a feeling that Pyro and Remy were using the term 'game' rather lightly, but I went along with him anyways.

Hey, nobody had ever accused me of making good decisions, had they? No, I didn't think so.

We all gathered in the main part of the dome, empty for all save a metal chair. One thing was for sure, Magneto would never have a career as an interior designer. Then again, if he were torturing somebody in here, the gloominess of the room would probably make anyone want to spill more than his interrogation methods. Other than that, virtually useless. Remy and Pyro were waiting for us, Pyro excitedly running around the room and Remy casually leaning against the wall.

I chuckled. "I suppose it's safe to assume that we're not going to play _Monopoly?"_

"Here's the rules." Pyro paused from his crazed dash and took on a serious, leading tone. It didn't suit him very well, and I had to bite back a laugh. "Ol' Maggie's out like a light and he hides his helmet somewhere new every time he's sleepin'. S'pose he doesn' want anyone to find it. First one who does, wins." He beamed, looking at us expectantly.

"What's de prize?" Remy asked, not looking particularly interested. Well, to others he might have appeared interested, but I could see the anticipation of a challenge in his strange eyes. Piotr looked mildly curious, too, but was probably too humble to accept any sort of gift (But is it really a gift if it's fairly won?), and I suppose you could say that it piqued my curiosity, too. Just a little.

What can I say? I'm a sucker for bragging rights.

"Drumroll, please." Pyro held his hands out and closed his eyes dramatically. Deciding to humor him, Piotr clanked out his metal skin and we all patted it rapidly, causing strange echoes to jump around the room.

"The winner-" He paused a long while, reminding me of how they do so before commercial breaks to stop you from changing the channel, "Gets to make the others do whatever they want for 24 hours." We all pulled up rather mischievous smiles, but I got kind of uncomfortable right then because _whatever they want_ can be a very broad statement. A very broad statement, indeed.

"Within reason." I added pointedly, getting an upset expression in return from a certain redhead Australian. He gave me a pouty face, slinking right over in front of me.

He touched his forehead to mine, staring deep into my eyes with his big, clear blue ones and whispered, "Reason's no fun now, is it?" He was close-_really_ close. I could smell his aftershave and could've pushed him away if I had wanted, but the closeness was comforting, in a way. In the past, people usually had made a point of staying away from me. I had always been the neighborhood freak, loud conversations turned to hushed whispers as I walked past. Maybe he sensed it, that loneliness. IN hindsight, maybe it was what made him _want_ to be near, I don't know. But what did it matter? My mind slowly processed what he said, more than a touch late, and I felt the heat creeping up to my face.

About then I started to feel kind of dizzy and swayed a little bit, hating that I had to pull away so soon, away from the comfort that seemed to radiate from Pyro. How had I not noticed it before?

"You're not breat'ing." Remy observed, and I could feel my face flush an even deeper shade fo red. My lungs filled with air again and the dizziness passed, but I had completely forgotten that Piotr and Remy were still standing there. Had I really been _that_ out of it?

Embarrassed, I looked down at the ground and muttered, "Are we gonna start this game, or what?"

(The Dome)

A figure slowly slinked into the dark room, silently thanking the doors for not creaking as they slid open. Gentle snores could be heard, seemingly coming from a slowly-breathing sheet covered heap in the corner. Without hesitation, the figure glided over to the half-hidden bed, leaning over the sleeping man.

The figure winced as the man snorted loudly and rolled over, tensing all of its body. A few minutes passed and the figure slowly relaxed, continuing on its previous mission. Small, shadowed hands reached down to either side of the sleeper's head, moving it so that he was facing the ceiling.

The man jolted slightly as the shadowy person concentrated, groaning, but quickly fell once again into a deep sleep. The figure wiped the sweat from her brow, standing back with a smug look.

"Piece of cake."

(The Dome)

"The helmet. Have you found it?" Pyro looked up from rummaging through (yet another) box. He gave the large Russian a dirty look before continuing to dig, leaning precariously over the edge of the crate. Startled by his sudden frigidness Piotr walked away with a somber expression, only to be intercepted by none other than Remy LeBeau.

"Don' wor'y 'bout it. 'E's just real compet'tive," He drawled, quickly understanding the situation, "_Mon Ami, _he's 'fraid of havin' to do what _we_ wan'." They chuckled, nodded, and prepared to part ways when Rhianna slid in through the doorway, hands holding something behind her back. They all came to the same conclusion instantly, and they were all right.

"_Mon Dieu_, don' tell ol' Remy here dat…" His sentenced was cut short as she showed the formerly hidden object. Groans filled the room as they saw the shiny red-and-blue surface of Magneto's famous helmet.

"I s'pose this means that I win?" Rhianna smiled, unable to help her cocky grin. "So I get to make you guys do whatever I want, right?" She was greeted with stunned silence and couldn't help but giggle a little bit. She usually wasn't much for giggling, but a little bit of well-places ones could be useful. Remy was the first to snap out of it, kicking Pyro in the shin to get him to pull his jaw back up.

"It turns out," she continued, "That the _monsieur_ keeps his helmet under his bed. Not very creative, hmm?" The others slapped their foreheads at the pure _obviousness_ of it. Hidden in plain sight. "Remy-" He looked up, probably expecting some kind of horrible chore "-Take the day off or something. Go get drunk and have a one-night stand. I don't really care, but don't do anything you can't fix. Magneto works you too much."

Remy shot her an 'I think I can manage that' look before quickly heading out the door. _Too bad he's not so obedient on anything else_, she thought silently.

"Piotr- could you do me a favor? Come over here." He shot a quick glance at Pyro, who shrugged, before doing what she said. "I was wondering if you could paint a picture for me?" Piotr looked surprised for a moment before smiling and nodding. "But I need to show you with… you know." She reached up, gently placing her fingers on his temples and closed her eyes. Her brow furrowed with concentration, wanting to be careful not to hurt him. Sending only pictures, nothing more.

Piotr opened his eyes, blinking away the dizziness, and said shyly, "I think I can do that."

"I know you can." Rhianna responded honestly, hugging him. "Thank you _so much_." He exited the room quickly in his eagerness to start the painting, leaving Pyro and Rhianna alone together.

"At your service, shiela. Fair win, whatever you want." He gave a dramatic bow and looked at her with an inquiring (and rather suggestive) expression.

"I was wondering…" She paused, glancing at the ground uncomfortably, "Well, ever since Magneto got the TV, I've been watching some new shows and I saw one that I liked a lot-"

"Just tell me."

"Well, I was wondering if you… would take me to a carnival." Rhianna looked up from the ground into those big blue eyes, the cold lights dancing off of them like a gentle flame…

He only smiled.

(Through the park)

"No! Stop it, stop it!" Rhianna squealed as she was rather forcibly pushed into another line. "We already rode it three times!"

"Soon to be four!" She struggled for a minute more before admitting defeat, but Pyro knew that she secretly wanted to go again. He could see that gleam in her eyes as she took in the park for the first time, that same gleam that he had seen during their all-out pillow fight, sometimes when she was watching the TV, or sometimes… sometimes when she was looking at him.

He thought that he had decided the park well-on a small pier near the beach, so it wasn't as intimidating or as impersonal as some of the larger ones. No, it may not have had the newest rides, but it made you feel at home. They had watched the sunset go down together from the Ferris wheel when it somehow got 'stuck' at the top just before the last of the light rays sank behind the ocean, reflecting off the clouds in a million brilliant shades of pink and yellow. He grinned. Turns out that mechanics class in high school hadn't been such a bad idea, after all.

"Scared?" Pyro teased her as they fastened the sturdy seat belts and pulled the metal bar down onto their laps.

"You wish." Rhianna looked determinedly forward as the carts slowly started cranking up the first hill and despite her no-fear spitfire personality, he could see that her knuckles were white from clenching onto the lap bar. _Stubborn_, he thought, _but brave. _She always made it perfectly clear that she could take care of herself, but that just made it that much more special to him when she would let him do something for her.

The redhead gently placed his hand on top of hers, shooting a reassuring smile. Rhianna returned with a nervous grin and opened her mouth, but they started to fall before she could say anything-The screams in the air quickly intermingled with laughs, hair flew and hands were raised. That perfect mix of fear and jubilation-_ that's what theme parks are about, _Pyro thought determinedly. By the time they arrived at the main platform again, Rhianna was laughing so hard that her sides hurt with tears streaming down her cheeks.

"The look suits you." She shot Pyro a scolding glance as they watched their faces flicker onto the screen. His read hair was flattened straight back and he had one hand stuck up into the air, the other still holding onto hers. Rhianna's curls were flying in every which direction and her mouth was open into a perfect 'O' shape, her eyes taking a similar form. Pyro grinned and bought the picture when she wasn't looking. His little memento of their time together.

"My valiant Rhianna, tackling the problems of the world on roller coaster at a time."

Rhianna couldn't help but smile at the sarcasm, and he was caught up in those eyes once again-dark shades of honey with lighter cream colored rings towards the center and the slightest hint of purple right next to the pupil.

"Nah, you're just a softy."

They spent the rest of the night enjoying the better coasters, him not minding in the slightest when she used most of his money at unwinnable carnival games or when she wanted to rest on the benches for a while. Pyro watched as she cascaded from one mood the next- awe, joy, wonder, surprise, annoyance every once in a whiles. He always just chuckled to himself when she was frustrated- she made the cutest face. All was going well, but like always when things go well, something had to go wrong.

(Later, on the beach)

"Come on, the fireworks show is about to start! I've never seen fireworks, and I ain't gonna miss 'em now!" It was probably an amusing sight, a petite young woman with brown hair flying dragging a bemused redhead through the sand between the throngs of seated people waiting to watch the show. The other individuals weren't exactly happy at the sand flying in their face from her rapid footsteps, but the annoyance passed quickly. It was a night of enjoyment after all, right?

The couple found a spot right near the water, sitting just as the first ball of light rocketed through the air. It exploded in a million colors, glittering across the sky and gently tumbling down the sides of the sky, met with cheers from the beach, seemingly so small, below. The ground was a mix of white sand and bright faces, eager applause. Young children ran around, trying to trap the tiny colored flares from the show in their hands while their parents looked on with amused expressions. All were enjoying themselves as the show went on, all but one. One worried face. An alarmed voice whispered, then spoke, and then shouted.

Pain struck all of the faces, the couples enjoying an innocent evening on the beach and the running children, the awkward preteens and the old men alike. Screams lit up the night sky, intermingling with those from the roller coasters and continuing, ignored. That man with flaming red hair picked up the young woman next to him and carried her as quickly as he could away from the beach, the agony etched into his features caused by more than just physical pain. The woman dangled, almost lifelessly, in his arms, oblivious to the world around her as thoughts of lighted skies and glittering walls filled her mind.


	7. The Gypsies of Gems

_**Sorry it took so long to put the next Chapter, guys! I've been really busy lately. Anyway, here you get to meet the gypsies better, and a few starts of other things. Mostly planting seeds of what is yet to come in this one.**_

_**I do not own X-Men:Evolution or its characters, but Rhianna is mine. All mine. Enjoy!**_

I opened my eyes to destruction. But it felt more… real… than before. I could feel the heat radiating off of the licking flames on my palms and the bitter chill of the Southern Winds on my cheeks. I could feel the pain as my arms were sliced open from falling steel. The dome was in pieces, shattered and blazing. It was destroyed. I had destroyed it. But how?

I looked around, seeing burnt portions of what looked like clothing. And… skin. I could smell the skin. Shards of glass and metal littered the ground. Two arms wrapped comfortingly around me, and I glanced over to see one of the translucent-skinned gypsies giving me a side hug, wearing a miserable expression. I had destroyed more than just real life. I had destroyed _her_ life. Her misty eyes raked over the devastation, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. It hardened before it hit the floor, bouncing on the ground three times before going still.

The flesh of her body shuddered, her four arms. Its color shifted and wavered until she looked sick. It turned a dark shade of exotic purple. Different. Like I was different. Her tear changed to match the bizarre color of her skin.

"Change." Her voice was choked and bumpy, fighting back the raging torrents of sadness that were no doubt soon to come. "Before it is too late." A picture of Pyro flashed into my mind, laughing like a mad man and swarmed by a tornado of fire. Remy, playing solitaire with so many cards it took up a whole room. Then Piotr, defending whatever passed behind him. It didn't matter who or what they were. Unknown people, flags, celebrations. His heart was strong enough to take the emotional loss, and his body followed suit with the physical.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered. It was all my fault. Like always. I turned to face her properly. "Amethyst," I murmured. She nodded.

"In your fate, in your lifetime, change comes with control. Learn to control your mind, and your destiny will change to suit you," The lilac-colored gypsy crooned. We both watched as the world inside of me slowly started rebuilding itself, flames falling back and dying in their ashes, chilly winds warming and disappearing. "If you do not learn control, you will perish. And if you perish, we perish with you. You must learn control."

The Gypsies, the CROWS, Aitor and his demented sister Louhi. Even Abasalom and Ariel. They weren't just my imagination, they were alive. No matter what Magneto said. They thought, they breathed, they spoke. They had a heartbeat. Who was I to steal that away from them?

"I'll… try," I struggled to say, desperately not wanting to disappoint her. But how could I not? Control was a finicky thing. A blue gypsy, Sapphire, came up on my other side.

"Thank you. No matter how hard it seems, you are too proud to give up this fight." Her voice was thick and smooth. Like honey being poured. Slowly.

I felt a force tugging me upward, back to reality, and I gave both Amethyst and Sapphire a kiss on the cheek as a goodbye. I would once again face the unknown. I was lifted through the air, into the bloody sky and out into the bloody world.

"Ugh. I feel like I got hit by a truck," I grumbled. On a metal chair, in a metal dome. What a welcoming. "You people have serious issues with _déjà vu_." I knew I was grumbling to no one but the air in front of me. Though I pretended to be, I wasn't really upset. Suddenly, I realized that those cold walls and strict tiles were more of a home to me than my house ever was.

I walked boredly through the halls, glancing into rooms. Most were lighted but empty, still full of crates. There was no sign of the destruction I had caused. There was no chill, no fire. No stench of burned skin.

"Hey Airy Fairy, wanna gimme a hand?" I turned to see the Australian, hauling a large box across the room. He didn't particularly look like he needed help, but I walked over.

"What happened at the carnival? How long was I out?" I had a brief recollection of the… night? before, but it was dim.

He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, but I could see the worry in his eyes. "We were watching the fireworks on the beach and you fainted. I'm not sure after that, it's all a bit… fuzzy. That was three days ago," he added quietly.

I couldn't believe it. I mean, I had been out long than that, but… I had attacked him. And everyone on the beach. How could I have been so stupid as to watch the fireworks show? All of the lights…

Shaking my head and moving back to neutral ground, I teased him, "You can't even lift a box by yourself?"

"Not a 'eavy one." He grunted, dramatically trying to use his knee to hold it up.

"Sissy. Why are you guys always moving these boxes around like slaves, anyways?" He just shrugged.

"Y' can quit t'e insults, _vous savez_," a different voice answered me.

"And you can shut your oversized Cajun mouth," I snapped. Remy held up his hands in a 'cool it' posture.

"Sorry," I grumbled, not particularly feeling apologetic.

"Jus' say'n." In the short span of time I had spent snapping at Remy, I had let all of the weight fall into Pyro's hands again and he fell to the ground, not prepared for the sudden extra load.

"_Mon Dieu_. You guys can't do _anything!"_ Pyro's expression only became more confused, and Remy's twisted with an amused smirk. It wasn't their fault, but I just needed someone to be mad at.

"Feel like a drongo." Pyro muttered as I walked out of the room. Drongo? I shook my head. These people just kept getting stranger and stranger. I supposed that's what happened when you mix so many different ethnicities and dump them in the same place.

From then on I practiced my control in my usual spot more often, the stack of boxes that I was sure were moved a little every day. I stared at the moon while Amethyst coached me, though occasionally Sapphire would come and help.

I became familiar with the gypsies (Amethyst, Sapphire, Garnet, Emerald, and Amber, their skin correspondent to their names) and the twins (Diamond and Obsidian). Except for the dragons, the gypsies seemed to be the most intelligent creatures there. The Mantises weren't the smartest, so I just let them roam around the jungles eating each other's heads. _Cerfs_, rather fawn-like creatures with abnormally large hooves, were capable of speaking but they didn't have much to say. They wandered around the fifty-one lakes, jumping in and often coming out much smaller as the poisonous water disintegrated their bodies. They believed that it was all in good sport. The Cardinals were humongous bird-like creatures with bright red scaled skin and a few slightly darker feathers. And three rows of perfectly sharpened needle-like teeth, might I add. To be perfectly honest, they scared me. A lot. I only spoke with them when I needed to and always had Abasalom with me.

But with the gypsies' help, I established control in my mind. When awake, it no longer felt like they were hurling themselves at the walls of my wits anymore or straining to get out. When asleep, they generally stayed inside, though I often caused a certain five men nightmares. This training took up many hours of my day, but it's not like there was much else to do. Magneto still didn't trust me enough with important missions, and studied me for what seemed to be all of the other waking hours. Occasionally Pyro would join me in staring at the moon, but I always felt sad that he would never be able to see the true beauty of it. He could never see the diamond craters and sparkling crystal stars streaming through the night.

One other thing that I learned is how to walk through my memories. Things that my subconscious had noticed before but I didn't, I could. I could stand in the middle of the hospital playroom in France, I could count the Legos on the table and children entering and exiting. I could walk through the hallways of forgotten worlds and observe every little detail. But the one thing that I wanted to see most was the one thing I _couldn't_ see. I still couldn't remember my mother's face. When I tried to enter the hospital room- her room- the door didn't budge. But despite that, things were getting better.

It was so strange- I didn't feel crazy anymore. I was no longer walking through the hallways, lost, with a blank expression; I wasn't constantly losing fights that didn't exist and falling into a different world. I wasn't arguing with the air in front of me. The Alcolytes usually left me alone when I stared at the sky for hours through the window. Maybe they realized that it had something to do with my improvement, or thought that I just needed my private time. I didn't know.

Alas, good things could never last, do they? Diamond and Obsidian approached me for the first time. Amethyst had warned me that they were fortune tellers, of sorts, and could occasionally see the future but it depended on each and every of the thousands of small decisions that one makes in a day. They could only tell for certain when something really bad was going to happen, but could never see it specifically.

"You have gone through a journey, and it will repeat itself," Obsidian said in a chanting, ominous tone. "You will start from the beginning again with almost nothing," Diamond put in. "But you have grown fond of your original destination. You will see all from a different perspective, and you will see the wrongs of your doings." Obsidian's coal-black face turned down, as if in mourning. Diamond's sparkling white visage shined red in the light. "And you will escape to find one you lost." They held out their arms in a forgiving stance.

"Protect everything that you have, or you will lose it," They whispered in unison.

"Rhianna?" I jerked out of my dream-like state. "Magneto wants to see us." Piotr's thick Russian accent filled the room. I could hear Remy and Pyro arguing in the background.

Protect everything that you have, or you will lose it.


	8. Meet your new Roomies

**I'm back and (hopefully) better than ever. Yeah, I suck at writing action scenes, so could you give me some comms and crits on that? Thanks, people!**

**I do not own Mastermind, Magneto, Colossus (Piotr), Gambit (Remy), Pyro, or any of the X-Men who I don't feel like naming. Enjoy!**

**_______________________________________________________________________**

"Am I in trouble?" I asked boredly as I entered the dome room. I felt like a small child who had gotten caught in some bold, foolish act. One they were not supposed to do.

"I have a mission for you." Magneto said in his cold, droning voice. I glanced briefly at the others next to me.

"So you and Mon-… Mastermind aren't coming?" Even since our first encounter, I always had the nagging urge to call him Monkey Man.

"There is no reason. Piotr will not be joining you, either. But for now, I have a message for you to store."

"Store?"

"I have come to realize to some extent, your abilities."

"As in Mastermind told you." I muttered under my breath.

"And have realized you possess the ability to pass information." I paused for a moment, then cracked up laughing. Not just at the words themselves, but the serious faces Pyro and Remy both held were somehow hilarious.

"Can't everybody do that, _Homme En metal?_" (Man of Metal) I paused before going on. "I believe that's why languages were created, don't you think?" He glared down at me.

"Perhaps I need to be more specific with you. You can take images out of somebody's head and pass it to someone else. I want you to relay my message into your mind and send it to Professor Charles Xavier of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Children." His voice sounded clipped and cold on the last words.

I sighed. "By being allowed to stay here, I suppose I must take to some Terms and Conditions." I looked up at his floating figure and said honestly, "Though I cannot promise you will be okay through the contact. Things have a way of unintentionally leaking out."

He floated down to my level, and took off is helmet.

"You age gracefully." I commented. Though I had picked up he was of extreme age, he did not really look particularly old. Thirties, maybe, but extremely fit. The only thing that gave him away was the white hair.

I hesitantly pressed my fingertips to his cheek.

At first there was a blast of information: darkness, pain, war… Wolverine? I tried to block out the sound of airplanes slicing through the air. Then, slowly, I was able to focus on what was at the forefront of his mind. It was an image of himself, actually. I couldn't hear what it was saying, though! I frowned. The sound of the planes was blocking out his voice. The image-him nodded, and I fell backwards in real life.

His eyes were widened in shock and glazed over in pain.

"I told you it was at your own risk." But my eyes narrowed. What had he seen?

"Watching an innocent woman waste away was not what I expected to see." He said gruffly. Shaking his head, he left the room. I glared after the metal hole that closed up the wall.

"He did _not_ just say that." My voice was a thin hiss, slicing through the air. Pyro winced.

"Get ova it, _fille folle_." Remy snipped. "We go' stuff ta do, and I suggest we ge' it done.

And that's how I got stuck with the idiots of a lifetime. A madman who could make butterflies out of fire and an annoying gambler who didn't know when to shut up. Yay.

Magneto was_ kind_ enough to let us ride in an uncomfortable little metal ball on the way there. Of course he wasn't coming along, though. And I had this little thing against flying, especially putting my life in the hands of someone I don't particularly trust on something without an engine. Though that might just be me. But still, I made a promise to do what he said. How hard could it be to relay a message, anyway?

Though this wouldn't be a friendly meeting. Remy and Pyro both wanted to rough up downtown a little bit, and, being outnumbered, I had no choice but to go. Though they assured me that the X-Men would come soon enough.

"And if they don't?" I had asked venomously.

"Dey will. Gambit an' Pyro 'ave some fun, y' can 'relay' message, and we be out soon." Remy said simply.

"But Magnet Boy said that I have to give it to Charles Xavier _personally_." Remy paused at that.

"If t'ing go wrong, we be meeting 'im personally." He had decided matter-of-factly.

"Helpful." I muttered.

Now the dreadful spheres were landing somewhere unknown to me. And somewhere very much not expected. "I thought we were going downtown." This looked like a storage bay of some sort. What was with these people and boxes?

"Start here, work our way up! She'll be apples." Pyro said happily. I looked at Remy in disbelief. Somehow I knew he was speaking English, but he was _so_ _not_ speaking English. The snake-eyed man shrugged.

"Let's bring some Alfs our way!" Pyro started shooting fire mercilessly at the buildings. I watched with a bored expression as they demolished the warehouse with fire and playing cards in a number of minutes.

"The grand entrance!" Pyro made a huge bonfire-at least three hundred feet tall-reach to the sky. I had the feeling it was moving, but when I craned my neck, I could not even see the top. So, naturally, I couldn't see what it was. But apparently, the X-Men could.

A red beam of some sort slammed into Pyro, knocking him back. I turned to glare at the new arrivals. And was met with surprise

They were all teenagers! A girl who looked no older than 15 was charging forward, her swishy brown ponytail flying behind her. The guy who had knocked Pyro down looked no older than a senior in high school! Not like I had seen many high school seniors.

I jumped forward and slammed sideways into the ponytail girl, who, caught off guard, fell onto the ground. Well, not exactly. I watched in disbelief as the fell _through_ the ground. I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Looking for someone?" I twisted around and landed a solid punch in her gut, and with a loud _oof!_ She fell over.

And then I realized something: I had no idea what Charles Xavier looked like. Though I doubted he would be some freak teen, many examples of so in front of me.

A furry blue boy popped up in front of me, and grabbed my shoulder. Before I could react, I was yanked violently through the sky and was being thrown down to the earth. Inside one of the locked-from-the-outside warehouses. One that happened to not be destroyed.

"_Merde!_" I swore under my breath. I walked around the inside perimeter of the walls, getting more and more worried. Where'd that stupid blue boy go? And why lock me in here? As my brain slowly processed there was no door, I sighed and sank to the ground in defeat.

I could hear explosions going outside, but I had more consuming worries right now. What if no one found me? What if I was forgotten? Would I just be left to rot in here?

I shivered, and I realized it wasn't with cold. My skin was _tingling_. I pulled my hand close to my face and observed it carefully. It didn't look different, but it was almost like I could feel the _cauchemar_ fizzing over my skin. Almost like they would pass through to someone else if I touched them. I grinned. So now my abilities were starting to get more offensive.

I felt the wall I was resting against suddenly melt away, and I tumbled backwards. Magneto. Finally the idiot was being of some help.

I pulled myself to my feet, glancing at the battle still going on. Pyro was shooting fire at the blue boy, who conveniently kept disappearing into a puff of smoke. But what Aussie didn't realize was that the teen with funny goggles was turning to him, holding his hand to the side of his goggles. I remembered the lasers that shot out from his eyes.

"Oye, Hothead!" I lunged forward, knocking Pyro out of the way. Time slowed down, and I watched Pyro leisurely land on the ground with a prolonged _thump_. I saw the different emotions overcome his face. Surprise, annoyance. He looked my way, his head turning slowly. Fear. I turned gradually and gazed at the huge red beam stretching towards me. My mind slowly comprehended that there would be pain. And to avoid pain, there was only one thing to do. I let a special crimson-skied meadow appear over me, and then there was no pain.

Only dancing with the Gypsies of Gems.


	9. Run in with the Rogue

_**Yeah… this one's way longer than the others, but I wanted to get all of the important stuff into one chapter. Enjoy!**_

_**I do not own the show X-Men: Evolution or the characters from said show.**_

The blood-colored sky was washed a little darker this evening, forever ominous and gorgeous. Small blinks of light-almost stars- swirled around in a million different patterns over a vast meadow of tall grass. A strange chanting noise came from a small clearing, unnaturally circular, with a bonfire in the middle. Like the center of the universe. Strange figures of exotic shapes and colors dances around it, entranced, magical, beautiful. And one figure that stood out obviously from the rest.

I watched Garnet in amusement, true in skin color to his name, slowly making his way over to a lithe, twirling tawny figure. As he got closer she feigned obliviousness, but in her eyes I could see more than just the reflection of the flames. Amethyst was also watching, with a smile on her face. She gave me a knowing smile before looking down to play with one of the rings on her fingers. It was a tarnished silver, the lackluster somehow making it seem antique and wise, with a dark purple stone in the middle in a teardrop shape. A noise caught my attention, and I glanced up in time to see Garnet fall to the ground, tripping over his own feet.

He was so hopeless, it was almost funny. Almost. But mostly sad. The twirling figure, Amber, stopped and smiled as he got up, trying to regain his composure and his pride, and held out her hand to him. He looked at her inquisitely for a moment. And they danced.

Diamond took up a lower, deeper tune as they pulled each other close, swaying gently with her flute as they fell into the music. It was so beautiful, so perfect. Why couldn't the world be like that?

I felt an all-too-familiar feeling in the back corridors. Somebody snaking around, trying to unlock doors. "Keep everyone occupied, but be prepared to fight if you have to," I whispered sharply to Amethyst. She nodded and casually took up the flute so that Diamond could go up and dance with her sister, Obsidian.

The others didn't notice when I disappeared with the coming breeze. Whoever it was was obviously not concerned with hiding himself. It seemed he almost _wanted_ to be found, and I easily cornered him in a back hallway.

"Abasalom." At once the huge white lion was at my side, cherry-colored eyes glaring at it. Ariel, to my surprise, also came. The man started to raise his hands-an attack?- and with a roar they lunged at the shadowy figure, knocking him to the edges of my mind. Ariel leaped at him and pinned him down. A door opened suddenly and I couldn't help but stare at the pasteled rainbow behind the ancient hinges. Somehow I knew that if we pushed the shadow man out there, he would be forced from my mind.

"Who are you? What do you think you're doing, intruding in this sacred place?" I hissed in his face.

"My name is Professor Charles Xavier. I was simply checking to see if you were okay." His words were sincere-sounding, but nobody ever just '_checks_' to see if someone is okay. He had to have ulterior motive. They always did.

"You do not have permission to go snaking through my memories. Get out, now!" I screeched, and both Abasalom and Ariel pushed him through the swirling archway. I glared at the psyche as he was slammed back to his original body.

"Professor Charles Xavier…" I murmured after he was gone. It sounded familiar...

"_Merde!_" I was supposed to give him the message! The swirling passageway was slowly closing and I could see him, the professor, getting smaller and smaller. Whispering quick warnings to Abasalom and Ariel, I jumped through after him.

I instantly jerked awake, knocking a sharp wave of panicked haunts outward. Multiple cries of surprise echoed out through the room as I looked about in confusion. It almost appeared to be a… hospital room? I stood up from the bed, fighting back the nausea to avoid appearing weak. Two mutants were on the ground, holding their heads. One was the blue boy, and the other was the girl with streaks in her bangs. I looked down at Professor Charles Xavier.

A pair of calm, collected eyes met mine, seeming without intentions of wrongdoing. But don't they always seem like that at first? "Magneto didn't say you were in a wheelchair," I commented coldly. I had expected a young, strong, formidable opponent. This demure man hardly seemed like he would be a threat to Magneto. "Where am I?"

"The Xavier Institute for Gifted Children. You're working for Magneto?" He inquired, probably trying to sound offhand. Not working so well. I could tell he wasn't used to having to cover up his curiosity. I examined him again. Bald, stuck in the chair, not particularly muscular or physically threatening. But physically doesn't have to go far with mutants.

"Well, obviously," I sniffed, "What's it to you?"

"We've been seeing your mutant signature around a lot recently," He stated calmly, gazing at me with those searching eyes. "We knew that you were _with_ Magneto, but _willingly_ or not was another story."

Concern? Where did _that_ come from? Didn't he realize that I was an _enemy?_

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm perfectly fine. Magneto just wanted me to deliver a message."

"Which is why that cargo bay was blown up."

"Hey, that wasn't my idea!" I clenched my teeth shut. Along with other obvious reasons, my mouth had had a tendency of getting me in trouble when I was still in school. There was no way I was going to explain myself to this guy! "It's rude to go through people's heads, you know," I added frigidly.

"What, may I inquire, is the message?" He asked, ignoring my comment. Jerk.

"I don't know. Gimme a minute to find it." I muttered, retreating back into my mind. I wanted to get out of this freak house as soon as possible. I could sense the gypsies' confusion as they noticed my disappearance. Well, except for Garnet and Amber. They just continued to dance, unaware of the world around them. Emerald's cold gaze rested on Garnet, then a warmer, protective one to Amber. Shaking my head, I went to hall of my recent memories. I grimaced as I found the message, still shrouded by the sound of airplanes. Hoping it would clear out by the time it got to the Professor, I surfaced back to reality.

"Found it." I muttered, opening my eyes. I wasn't sure how much time had passed, the mutants on the floor had gotten up again, waiting. For the order to attack?

"You," I said suddenly, pointing at the furry blue boy. "What's your name?"

"Uh… Nightcrawler?" He muttered, and I detected a definite German accent.

"Come over here." At his surprised look, I said, "I've never done this before, and it's slightly more delaying to me if Chuck over here gets put in a coma than it would be if you did." I turned to the Professor. "Besides, I don't trust you to not go sneaking around again."

"In that case," the Professor interrupted quickly, "I think Logan would be a better taker. He has magnificent healing abilities. I doubt that any harm would come to him." I could tell he thought I was exaggerating. I decided to give him a fair warning.

"I'm serious!" My face darkened. "You could ask Glenn, but I doubt he'd give you much of an answer. He woke up from his coma and is now in a mental institution. He's a wreck." Nightcrawler swallowed uncomfortably, and the Goth girl glared at me.

A little while later a short, stocky man came in the room.

"Whattaya want, Charles? I'm busy with something," He snarled. The Professor glanced at me and his expression quickly twisted into surprise, maybe even… _sympathy?_ I was crouched down in the corner, trembling. Staring at the monster next to him.

"Are you okay…?" The Professor's voice was genuinely worried. That's when it all finally clicked together. How stupid was I to not have seen it before!

"It was you. All this time, it was you," Fear turned to anger as I stood up, still quivering a little bit. I was a little bit taller than him, but he was considerably more threatening. "You're the one who chased me through the forest!" I could remember the snarling sound clearly, the horror. Trying to run faster than the twigs that snapped behind me.

He looked at me, and sniffed the air. I grimaced and pulled back in disgust. "Thought there was a new scent," He grunted. I shuddered. _Scent?_

"Forget it, I'm out of here!" I tried to go through the window, but the boy was suddenly there with a loud _bamf! _The goth girl was at the door, gloves off. She had done the same thing during the fight, so I assumed that it would be a good idea to stay away from her hands.

The Professor cleared his throat loudly, probably trying to break up the tension. "I believe you had a message?"

I smirked and shoved Magneto's image into the Goth girl's mind. She fell quickly, and I could feel her sheer determination trying to retaliate back at me, but pushed it away. The hands of my powers groped at her senses, pulling on nerves. Exploring. She writhed on the ground, opening and closing her mouth with silent screams.

"What did you do?" The stocky man, presumably Logan, snarled at me. Metal claws extended from between his knuckles with a sharp _shink!_ sound, and I decided that it was probably a good idea for me to leave.

"Deliver a message." I dashed out of the room.

Logan prepared to hurl after her, but Charles stopped him. "I've alerted the younger X-Men. Let us see how they handle an urgent situation. Besides…" He looked at Rogue's trembling figure.

"Magneto said…" Kurt carefully helped Rogue sit up. "Ta watch out… people're against us. An'… that the world's gonna know somethin' real soon… an' somethin' else…" She let out a sharp hiss of anger. "Ah'm gonna kill her!" Rogue screeched, fury lighting in her eyes. She ran after the girl into the hallway, all signs of confusion and fatigue gone.

Panting, I paused at yet another intersection of hallways. How big was this house? I turned to the right this time, wiping sweat off my forehead with my sleeve. Why had Magneto let me be sent to this horrible place? I paused in front of a flight of stairs. There was an elevator, too, but I didn't want to meet up with somebody by accident. 'Who are you?' 'Um… I'm new.' 'Really?' That would work out wonderfully. With a heavy sigh, I started up the stairs.

After a few flights the ground leveled out and the setting changed completely. Instead of the sterile metal labyrinth, I was in a grandly decorated hallway with countless doors.

"Great. Just great." Now what? I could be lost in here for hours! I could hear footsteps pounding up the stairs. A picture of the not-so-happy Goth girl flashed into my mind, and I set off in a random direction.

After what seemed like endless minutes of running, I made it to a grand entryway with huge glass doors and windows. The exit.

I pushed open the doors, but was met with no relief. Mutants. And a lot of 'em.

Before they could do anything I slammed a kick sharply into an Asian girl, who fell to the ground with an _oof!_ I could feel that strange tingling in my skin and concentrated on it, but to my surprise, nobody was attacking me. I grimaced as I realized why.

"You're gonna pay." The Goth girl had come out, panting. I smiled. I had seen a most-than-slight partiality towards Remy in her mind and decided to give her a few… fun images. What harm could that do, right? But no, everything had to be _personal_ these days. Even past the makeup, I could see the burning crimson color on her cheeks.

"Sure I am. As soon as one of Magneto's plans _don't_ backfire," I scoffed. I was waiting for some ice beam or something to come out of her hands. But no. She slowly approached me, looking for a point to attack. Straight-up hand-to-hand combat? I couldn't help but notice the younger mutants that were crowding around in a circle. What was this, a school yard fight?

She lunged forward and I twisted to the side, refusing to be caught off-guard. She lunged again, I moved again. We continued our little dance for a while, and I couldn't help being reminded of Amber dancing with Garnet. Evenly matched, but considerably more deadly. I felt myself slipping and jerked back, just to receive a punch to the gut.

I pushed myself back into the fight before another mutant could do something, taking deep breaths to absorb the shock like Pyro had taught me, but she had paused. She rubbed her bare, pale hands together. I willed the tingling feeling to my own, so much so that I could actually see them growing kind of fizzy, as though there were tiny purple sparks dancing around them.

She dashed forward, arms tensed beside her, ready to attack. When she raised it to hit me I grabbed her hand and the most peculiar thing happened. I saw Logan and the Professor coming out of the grand doorway, Logan none too happy. But I felt the gypsies and various other creatures screaming at the contact, being dragged away from me. She was stealing my power. She was stealing the gypsies. I smiled before the unfamiliar darkness enveloped me. No… no. It's not right. Fight the darkness. I mentally pulled them back, forcing a mental hand to grab her mind and squeeze. Hard.

Both of our screams echoed through the courtyard. Strong hands pulled me up and slammed me into the wall, a snarling face only inches from mine.

"Not much of a welcoming, huh?" I grimaced. "You know, if you keep pulling faces like that you're gonna permanently be frowning, _Homme_."

"What did you do to her?" He snarled and- if it was even possible- his frown lines got deeper. Something about how the uneven ones bothered me… I glanced at the girl's-Rogue's- body, writhing on the ground with glazed eyes and silent screams.

"You know, throwing someone up against the wall isn't the best way to get answers. Just saying." He slackened his grip with a snarl, but my feet still weren't touching the ground.

"What did you do to her?" To my annoyance, this was getting rather repetitive.

"What did _I_ do?" I cried, feigning innocence. "She did that to herself. And you, _monsieur_, have no right to keep me here."

"Let her down, Logan." It was the Professor's voice. Grudgingly, he put me on the ground and took a step back, but his tensed stance made it clear that I wasn't going anywhere.

"Do you know what's happening?" The Professor's face was horribly worried. Like the expression a father would have. Like the expression my father never had.

"No, and I don't want to find out," I snapped, "Because I don't much care. It's her fault she blocked my way and tried to attack me. I'm not staying here, because I can't help you. And with the current _company_," I said, glaring pointedly at Logan, "I wouldn't, anyways. Got it?"

"I believe that you know more than you're willing to tell," The Professor pressed, "And I'm sure we could help you in some way."

"Hey, you're supposed to be the almighty mind guy, right? Figure it out for yourself," I sniffed, taking a step toward the door. Instantly Logan and several other mutants were in front of me.

"I'm not going to do it!" I exclaimed. "I can't do it, and you know it!" Tears threatened to roll down my cheeks and I fought them back violently. "There's nothing I can do. Not without killing her." I felt my images pounding inside my head and crawling over my skin, threatening to explode.

But then there was a gentler touch easing them back, asking them to return to their homes. A firm but still gentle hand.

"I know your powers don't have the ability to kill," The Professor said quietly.

"A permanent coma is as good as dead. So is insanity. I would know," I whispered. "You can't help me and I can't help her. I've chosen my side, and it isn't with you, _monsieur_." I knew my voice was small and pained, but I didn't care. Even Logan stopped scowling for a moment.

"Aww, why don' you go an' help dat poor girl?" I turned to glare at the new face, accompanied by the devil's eyes.

"What are _you_ doing here?" I groaned in annoyance.

"I was about to ask the same thing." Did everything Logan say come out as a snarl?

"Jus' helping de _fille _out. A goo' t'ing, _non_?" Remy walked into the grand entryway where we werere gathered and I had to force myself not to laugh as the younger mutants shrank back in horror. From knowing what he could do, or _not_ knowing?

I remembered the part of Rogue's mind, in most places lonely and barren, that was filled with a glimmer of hope. The part filled with strange personifications… psyches, she called them. Remy was there. What would I give to have that kind of hope?

The answer came faster than I expected. _Anything_.

"I'll… try. But you owe me." Pyro walked into the room after him, and I raised my eyebrow.

"Where's Pio… Colossus?"

"Finishin' your painting, shiela."

I could help but smile as we followed the Professor through complicated hallways. The back of my head still smarted a little from Logan's tossing me into the wall, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. Remy and Pyro were on either side of me protectively and I knew despite what claims of peace they had made, they would fight if necessary.

I laughed as I realized how comical we probably looked, and earned many strange glances from the others. Just the crazy girl laughing at the air, right? I glared ahead, all traces of amusement gone. I wasn't crazy. Just… mutated.

The space in which Rogue was lying in was another hospital-looking room. I wrinkled my nose. This one actually _smelled_ like a hospital. Like antiseptics and test tubs and iodine… I put a hand against my face at the wave of nausea that crashed over me.

"You okay?" Remy's voice drawled in my ear. Nobody else noticed how strained it sounded.

"It's the smell." I choked out. "I feel like I'm gonna be sick."

"C'mon." Pyro murmured softly, gently placing a hand on my back. "Sooner this is done, the sooner we can go home."

I took a deep breath and went to Rogue's side. "I still can't believe I'm doing this," I muttered. I knew I couldn't put my bare hands on her face, so I just concentrated as hard as I could on her mind. But there were too many other minds to distract me, too busy worrying about this useless freak of a girl…

"I can't do this with all you _idiotic_ people in here!" I shouted crossly at all of the mutants. The younger ones instantly fled, and the older ones followed more slowly. "Better," I mumbled, still sour.

Forcing myself inside of her head, I landed in a medieval-looking castle. I began to search around through the rooms and huge hallways for her terrified soul. I could feel she was near, cowering from the pain around her. I found her in a large, dark room. It was empty of furniture and had large once-beautiful marble pillars and smooth floors. A ballroom? I could see her disgustingly pale figure curled up against the wall, crying.

"Come on, you're just gonna hide in a corner? What, no anger at all? You're even more pathetic than I thought." A cold draft blasted through the room. "You can do better than that! What happened to the cranky Mississippi girl who chased me out like hell was on her tail, huh?"

An angel, falling from the sky. A beautiful pale girl falling to the ground and laying there, unmoving, her once-trusting green eyes still open to the pain around her.

No.

"You're gonna let this drive you out? Run away from everything? See what I care! But you're gonna be miserable your whole life if you do that. I would know." I paused, debating what to reveal to her. "I ran away from everything. Look where I ended up. I'm a thief. A henchman. The bad guy. But you, you got a _chance._ There are people watching out for you." Her eyes flicked up at me with a faint glimmer, then returned to stare intently at the floor. "You have a future! And I'm _not_ gonna let you give all of that up because you can't stand a bit of a nightmare! Don't you dare turn your back on everything that you have here!" She stood up and I felt her slipping away. Back into reality. "Don't you ever forget it!" I shouted after her.

As she left, I felt her mind slipping into my own. The castle, the emptiness. My synapses were bombarded with memories that weren't mine and creations that had never been seen. A cold, loneliness filled my heart and muffled my senses. A life without touch.

Pyro watched anxiously as Rhianna's face twisted with anger. What was going on? The Professor was holding his fingertips to his head, probably trying to keep up with the mental going-ons.

Rogue jerked up and fell onto the ground, trembling, but Rhianna stayed perfectly still. Unmoving, like a corpse. _Don't think like that_, he chastised himself, _She'll wake up, just like the other times_.

"Rogue!" Wolverine pulled the dazed up to her feet. "Come on, you're awake!" He shook her gently, trying to get her to snap out of her daze.

"Rhianna?" Pyro asked uncertainly. "Rhianna?" He grabbed her arm, about to pull her to her feet, but he fell to his knees with a puzzled expression on his face. He seemed to try to get back up, but the muscles in his legs refused to cooperate.

He felt the floor slip out from underneath him as he was sucked into a different world, swirling around and around up through a sky of scarlet.


	10. An Accidental French Goodbye

**Chapter ten of Surreal Sights! Trying not to spoil, but Dholefire, I have no doubt you will like this one. I think (Though that's doubt, isn't it?)**

**Okey, more stuff than usual. I do not own Piotr (Colossus), Remy (Gambit), Pyro, Magneto, or Professor Xavier or Rogue or Cyclops and any other X-Men person who might be in here but I'm not sure. What little left is mine. **

**Oh, and I don't own the poem. For those of you who don't know, it is "The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe.**

**______________________________________________________________________**

There was no dancing with gypsies, no laughing; none of Garnet's useless flirts. The world as I knew it had changed. The diamond castle was gone, perhaps for forever, and in its place was an ancient, ominous one. Rogue's castle.

The crimson sky was churning, looking more like a sea of blood than ever, and foreign icy winds were screaming along the barren land before the drawbridge. There was nothing but pain. And I was alone. Like Rogue was alone.

The gypsies, CROWS, Lions, Diamond Protectors. All gone. Would I ever see them again? Maybe, maybe not.

I could feel someone struggling through the icy blasts, though I doubted they would make it to the grand castle doors. It was probably best they didn't. If they were even real.

I waited in total darkness, hiding in one of the rooms as Rogue had. But I had no motivational speech. No one to help me out. I was stranded on a deserted island, made of stone and blood. And forever there would I be.

_One upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary_

_Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore_

I couldn't help smiling as the words sang into my heart, the truth. My life was written out symbolically more than a century before my birth. Though I suppose existence is just strange like that.

_While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping_

_As of someone gently rapping, rapping on my chamber door_

Was someone knocking at the front gates? I could not tell. But, whoever it was and if they were really there, they would be gone soon. No one ever stayed long in this awful world. The only survivor was me.

'_Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door-"_

_Only this and nothing more."_

"'Tis some visitor." I whispered. "Only this and nothing more." But there shouldn't be a visitor. Even if there was, perhaps I was cruel enough to leave them out in the place of their demise? No. I couldn't do that. I allowed the doors to open, letting whoever it was into the dank entryway. But I put more doors between us. Although a visitor to my house, there would be no visitors to me. Not today. Not ever.

_Ah, distinctly I remember it was in bleak December_

_And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor_

A chilling draft swept through the room. Long since dead, of his own causes even, his words still haunt my soul. Ever since I learned them in the eighth grade, they have haunted me. And each ghost who haunted died in the gypsies' fire. But what happens when that fire burns out? The ghosts have already perished, do they come back to this dreaded world?

_Eagerly I had wished the morrow; -vainly I had sought to borrow_

_From my books surcease of sorrow-sorrow for the lost Lenore_

I couldn't even remember what my mother looked like. My dad had thrown away all pictures, all jewelry, all tokens and knick-knacks of hers. It was like I had never had a mother at all. But she was the reason I fought so furiously against the man who was supposed to be my father.

Victoire. The name of beauty. The victor, though in the end she lost. Was it right for an invisible face to be your guide? I hoped so. I had enough wrongs to compromise.

_For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore-_

_Nameless here for evermore_

But my mother was forever lost to me. I couldn't even lie to myself that she existed, tell myself she did not cease to. I couldn't bring her memory to dance with me around the fire. Because that memory did not have a face.

But the person leaning in the doorway did.

"A nice pie floater'd be good in this weather." Pyro. What the hell was he doing here?!

"I don't want company. How'd you get through the storm?" I didn't even have the heart to glare at him.

"Once I got to the front doors, it was simple. They swung right open." I didn't know why, but his voice always seemed to get higher on the last words of his sentence. But, then again, it may not _seem_ to. Maybe they actually did.

"That's because I opened them for you, _Génie_." My voice hardened.

"Genie? Isn't that one of them mystically things?" His voice was honestly confused. I rolled my eyes.

"It means genius in French, _stupid_."

"Oh, why thank you kindly." He said graciously.

"I was being sarcastic."

"…Oh."

The room fell silent once more. No, not once more. It hadn't been silent; the winds were too forceful, constantly berating the walls. Where were they?

"The winds are gone." My voice sounded regretful for some reason.

"That's a good thing, right?" He asked pointedly. At my glare, he quickly added, "I mean, now you can leave. Right?"

"Wrong."

"Wrong?"

"Right." I scowled at this pointless, repetitive conversation. What was his _problem_? "I stay here. There is nothing for me on the outside. I can let you out, though."

"No! You hafta come with me! I mean us!" He frowned slightly at his jumbled words.

"No, I don't _hafta_ do anything." I hissed. "I have no mom, no dad, no friends, and no life. For all I know, I could be dead! For all I care, I could be dead." The last sentence got really quiet.

"No friends? That really hurts, right here." Pyro put his hand over his heart. I rolled my eyes again.

"No offense, _monsieur_, but I don't particularly consider crazy madmen to be friends. _Pyrogéné_. Is that the name of a regular _friend_?"

"Well, it sounds all fancy when you say it, so yeah." He smiled.

"You are too… strange." I sighed, shaking my head. Is this what my life had really come to?

"Look whose talkin', troppo." He said matter-of-factly.

"I should dump you in a poisonous bog. What's the point of a conversation if neither can understand each other, even if both are speaking the same language?" I sniffed.

"You have a poisonous bog here?" He completely ignored the second half of my comment. I rolled my eyes before closing them. I concentrated on the putrid, oddly-colored air and muddy grounds far to the South.

Of course, Pyro's first comment was, "Whoo-whee! It smells worse then a dutch oven in here!"

"Hold your breath, then." I sighed in irritation.

"I have to breathe eventually!" He argued.

"No, you don't. Not here." I held my breath, and we waited there for about two minutes.

I moved out of the bog after that, already bored of the smelly place. This time we were in a large, flowing meadow filled with flame-colored flowers. In fact, they were so thick it felt like you were walking on fire. Or a cranberry bog. Though that is technically still a bog, it smells a lot nicer.

Pyro smiled slightly at this part. "Aww, you even made a meadow for me!"

"Don't give yourself so much credit, Hothead." I replied. But there was no fire in my voice this time. He hadn't done anything to deserve my anger, and for the first time I realized how… cruel I had been. Not just to Pyro, either.

He cleared his throat. "Yes?"

"How long have we been in here? In real time, I mean?" He looked slightly uncomfortable, and bothered.

"I don't know. That's what I've always loved about this place. There's no recognition of the passing of time." My voice was airy, wistful even. It wasn't like I was speaking; more like listening to someone else but knowing what they were going to say.

"I need to go back up. Or out, however you put it." He looked confused again. I sighed and sank to the ground in the fiery flowers.

"I don't know why or how, but I've been in here for weeks at a time." I looked sadly up at him. "Well, I suppose I know why. I never had a reason to come back to reality. Because of the simple fact that reality is so cruel." I sighed. "Before you leave, I want to show you something." I added.

"Okay?" Uncertain now. Why was I paying so much attention to how he felt, anyways?

"It might give an explanation of why I act the way I do. A summarized version of my life, you could say." I motioned for him to sit down, and he obediently did so.

"Without warning, we were tossed into a hospital room, with the grace of a garbage bag being thrown out the door. He grimaced slightly, and his eyes widened in shock. He had noticed Remy, a much younger version of course, but still him, in the corner. We were actually in the lounge area, and he was boredly pulling loose stings out of a chair.

"That can't be-"

"It is." I interrupted, "Or, at least, it was. Before New Orleans, he was in France." Then to the image of playing, running through hallways, inventing new games. Some involving rather unsafe explosions. But it was fun, and that's what counted. That's what counted then, anyways.

I only skipped over briefly on my mother dying. He didn't need to see the true brutality of that. I allowed him to get a glimpse of the diamond palace. Pyro was actually speechless at that part. Like I had been. Only difference, he wasn't a six-year-old girl. We went quickly through the funeral, and the plane ride.

Los Angeles. My dad getting a call from the school that I had somehow put a young boy, Glenn, in a vegetative state. I hadn't technically killed him, no, but he was as good as dead. I don't know if his parents pulled the plug or not, but I hope they did. No one deserves to live like that. As far as I was concerned, drooling and being fed through a tube wasn't living.

I skipped over much of my school life. Secretly, I didn't want him to see the fear. The way the other students repelled from me, like some disease. To them, I wasn't a person. When I got into my teens, I showed him the hospitals. The nausea, the fainting. Having to take the pills, the shots. Whatever my dad could afford. I purposely didn't show Pyro the times I overdosed on purpose. He didn't need to see that.

The turning point in my life, running away to Canada. Short, sweet Alexandrine. I loved that woman to tears. I still do.

The pleasant little restaurant in Quebec. Leaving Canada for New York, and then running into Colossus in the woods. I stopped there, and we were sitting across from each other in the fiery flowers.

"You know the rest." I said softly.

"Your life hasn't been a walk in the park, has it?" Pyro murmured a strange look on his face. I really hoped showing him that was the right thing to do.

He pulled me into a rather awkward side-hug, the best you can really do while sitting down. Suddenly all of the flame-colored flowers turned to a rosy pink. Chuckling, he pulled me up to my feet.

"Come on, let's get back." Smiling, I closed my eyes to concentrate.

--

"Whoa, head rush." I muttered, pressing my fingertips to my temples and waiting for the throbbing to subside. I didn't open my eyes though. I wasn't sure if I _wanted_ to know where I was.

"Did he get the message?"

"Thanks for your concern, _Monsieur _Paperclip." I muttered sarcastically, "No, I don't think I'm fine right now."

"Just answer the question!" Magneto snapped._ Somebody_ was certainly cranky today.

"Yeah, yeah, _Monsieur_ Xavier Whatever got it. It wasn't very clear, though. You don't enunciate very well." I snipped. When I opened my eyes Magneto was uncomfortably close, a glare clear on his face.

"I heard about that little stunt you pulled." He said warningly.

"What'd I do? I pushed Pyro out of the way of the funky-eye dude, got knocked unconscious, kidnapped apparently (thanks for all the help on that, by the way), and woke up in a strange place with a bald guy trying to read my mind. If that's not enough, Goth chick just _had _to take things personally and tries to attack me, her fault she steals my powers. Not my problem, but I got convinced to help her, and conked out for a while. Somehow Hothead gets sucked under with me. What part of this is my fault, again?" I was upset enough because I probably hadn't eaten for days, and his interrogations weren't helping with my mood.

Left with nothing to complain over, he left the room. _Good, _I thought_, I hope I smashed your ego to smithereens_.

--

"Why d'you always mess with 'im?" Pyro asked curiously, a little bit later. I just shrugged.

"It's something to do. This place is rather boring. Y'all should bet a PS3." I smiled at the thought of Piotr trying to press the buttons with his huge fingers. Then again, somebody would probably get frustrated with it and smash/blow up/catch it on fire.

"Am I really that boring?" He asked with fake poutiness.

"Only when you're trying to be funny." It was late, and I gave him a kiss on the cheek instinctively before I left the room. In France and in Canada it was a way to say good-bye, but it wasn't until I left the room that I remembered the way Americans took it.

I slapped myself on the forehead. "Great."


	11. Ghosts of Memories

**Hey y'all! Chapter 11 of Surreal Sights is now officially here!**

**I do not own and of the Alcolytes, I just own Rhianna and all of the crap stuffed up in her head. Which is plenty, trust me. Enjoy!**

I didn't sleep well that night. Actually, I don't think I slept at all. But if you don't sleep, can you dream?

Whether dream or not, the warnings were very real. Obsidian and Diamond were telling me something… what was it? I groaned in annoyance. A warning of some sort, but that wasn't helpful. Wasn't it always a warning?

I swam down deep into my mind, calling out the names of the gypsies. But the ground was gone! I was floating through an empty void of nothingness all alone until Obsidian and Diamond floated up in front of me. We all held hands to float in the air (though, of course, they had two extras hands each). It kind of reminded me of those people skydiving on TV, all holding hand and doing neat tricks. Though, in a way, this was much more dangerous.

Diamond forced me to gaze into her clear, shining eyes. "They're coming." She whispered.

"He's coming." Obsidian corrected.

"All will be torn apart." Diamond murmured.

"In panic." Obsidian screeched.

"Destroyed." Diamond hissed.

"Keep a close eye on your friends. Some will escape with the destruction of another." The both chanted at the same time.

I was hurled violently through a series of images, moving too fast for me to see, until it finally froze on one face. I stared in horror before jerking up in my bed in cold sweat.

My brain slowly processed that someone was knocking on my door.

"'Tis some visitor, I muttered-tapping at my chamber door. Only this and nothing more." I whispered. The door opened before I could call whoever in.

"Piotr." I muttered, almost incoherently. Strange, I thought, I usually don't pay attention to how I speak. Or maybe I'm not really speaking. I mused over that concept for a moment before he shook me sharply.

"Are you okay? I grew concerned." Piotr rumbled with his trademark Russian accent.

"What's there to be concerned about, Homme?" I murmured, "It's only a dream."

"Doing that was you?" He looked genuinely surprised. I nodded absently.

"What did you see? No what I saw, I hope." I looked up at him as I asked the question, feeling smaller than ever. He was huge! What was it the Chief Toad-Mouse said about size…?

"I am not sure." He said uncertainly. "It was not good."

"Didn't think so." I murmured. "Excuse me." I added, slipping out of the room.

"Where are you going?" Piotr asked. I paused a long time before answering.

"Did you know that, in all twelve years since it happened, I've never seen my mother's grave? Or thanked Alexandrine for all of her help?" I glared at the floor. "Or talked to my dad, for that matter. I just have some things to deal with. I'll be back in a week or two. Tell Pyro and Remy, please." He nodded, a dazed expression on his face.

I went over to Remy's room, smiling as I looked under his bed. My search revealed an overstuffed duffel-bag, practically exploding with wads of cash. "You never had any tricks I couldn't see through, Snake Eyes."

Next thing I knew, I was off on a plane to California. My third flight wasn't any better than the others, for there was still a two-year-old who wouldn't shut up and an old drooling man next to me, but they no longer seemed that bothersome.

What, after all this time, would I say to my dad? That was the real problem.

Sorry? I wasn't.

I missed you? I didn't.

I love you? I don't.

And these worries bounded around in my head all the way to the worn front door, where a new terror seized me. Did he even live here anymore?

I remembered my vision of him holding my orb of life in my hands, preparing to crush it… I shook my head sharply. No point in turning back now. Instead I smiled as I imaged Remy's reaction to his lack of spare change.

I stood at the front door for what felt like an hour, though the miniscule sane part of my brain said that it was only a few minutes. Holding my breath, I knocked on the aged wood.

I waited. And waited. Maybe he's not home… I twisted my foot to turn, and the door opened up a creak. An ominous wind tossed around my long, curly brown hair and caused the door to fling open. The inside was dark.

Against all reasonable judgment (but who says I'm known to be reasonable?), I walked into the dim household. The first thing that came to mind was abandonné. Abandoned.

The wallpaper was peeling, the crown was molding ripped off completely in some areas, and the silver doorknob was tarnished. It looked like nobody had lived here for years. Even though I had only been gone a little more than two.

"Hello?" I knew the call was useless, for I could feel the absence of life. The illusions in my head weren't straining out to touch something, and my skin wasn't tingling with power. In some ways, I felt more alone than I ever had.

I was so concentrated in the horrors in front of me that I didn't notice the small chest on the floor until I tripped over it. I bent down and slowly read the engraving on the front:

For my angel, now and always

Rhianna

I looked curiously at the box. It was dusty, battered. And I hadn't been called an angel in a long time. But still… Christopher had obviously left this out for me, in case I returned. But where was he? A chill went through my body as I realized I could very well be an orphan. And that I could just now be figuring that out.

I opened the box, lifting out the dusty contents. There were only three things, though somehow I knew in that moment that I would treasure them forever. The first thing was a children's book, titled Le Petit Prince.

A rush of memories pushed over my head, and I almost fell over. A warm, rich voice carefully reading the simple words out for me, showing me the different letters. I was constantly getting distracted, reaching up over and over to play with soft blonde curls.

"Mommy." I whispered. The second was a letter, but it didn't look nearly as old as my book. It was written in my dad's untidy scrawl, so I put it down. He could wait. The third item couldn't.

It was a picture. A photograph, actually. I recognized my dad, though there were no streaks of gray in his hair, and his face was clean-shaven, and without lines. It was the woman that caught my attention. She had an absolute ton of hair, and despite some of it being pulled back, wild blonde curls still ran down her back and shoulders. She looked tired, but happy. Victoire. A little girl, maybe one year old, was sitting on her lap, a big goofy smile on her face. She was wearing a little pink sundress, with a little book in her hand. Le Petit Prince. That happy little baby was me.

I couldn't even remember the last time I smiled. Surely it hadn't been that long ago? I remembered the photographers on picture day at school always had to force me to grin. But how long ago had I smiled and actually meant it?

I sighed and looked at the letter. Though I could recognize the handwriting, I couldn't see the words in the dank room. With one last glance around at my ruined past, I scurried out of the front door, treasures in tow.

I crashed at a musty motel. I wanted to be conservative with my money, because I still had to make it to Canada and back to New York. Somebody had left a backpack in the dresser, which I quickly claimed. It was empty, but I put the chest in with it's newly-essential contents. I didn't sleep very well for the second night in a row, so I doubted the rest of the motel did, either. Nightmares had a tendency to go into other restive minds.

Next I was off to Montreal, but first I wanted to check something. I looked through the gravestones at the local graveyard, dreading an anticipating that one would say Christopher Carter Lefevre. But none of them did. So, as far as I knew, I wasn't an orphan. Either way you look at it, it was a blow that didn't need to be through about for six-plus hour plane ride.

When I walked up the front of the restaurant, despair filled my soul. That cute little restaurant that had existed not-so-long ago was gone. Replaced by some antique store.

I walked up to a blonde boy who was walking by, and asked, "_Pardon, monsieur. Vous savez ce qui s'est passé au restaurant ? Franchement, ça fait longtemps que je ne suis pas venue ici_." (Excuse me, do you know what happened to the restaurant? I have not been here in a long time.)

"_La propriétaire du magasin est morte, et le magasin des antiques a acheté la propriété."_ (The shop owner died, and the antique store moved in) the boy said with indifference. I barely managed to choke out a quick 'merci' before I went on.

Alexandrine was dead. Why is it that everything I leave disappears and dies? I thought miserably. After a few more questions, searching around, and a quick walk down the block, I was in front of Alexandrine's grave.

_Alexandrine Francine Moreau_

_Le 27 août, 1979- le 23 mars, 2009_

_"No matter what life throws at you, if you're not_

_prepared to fight it you might as well sell your_

_soul to the devil."_

"Alexandrine? If you can hear me, wherever you are, I want you to know I'm sorry. For leaving, for all the trouble I caused in wreaking havoc on customers, lost money, destroying your grandmother's vase. Everything.

"I'm sorry I couldn't bring flowers, too, but I'm a bit short on money right now. Remy's gonna be mad enough as it is. And I don't think you would've liked them, anyways. You were never a fan of girly stuff like that." I sighed. There was too much to say, but I knew I could never get it all out. I was ashamed of not even trying "I'm just so sorry." She hadn't even lived to be thirty years old.

Then there was nothing else to do. I got on the final plane ride back to New York (And luckily the shortest one) with a heavy heart. So much had been lost, and I had only just begun to realize it.

When I walked through the front door of the building, I had a pretty good idea of what to expect. Piotr would be worried because it was his nature, Bucket-head would be furious because I didn't tell him where I was going, Mastermind wouldn't care, Remy would care but pretend not to, and Pyro would be… catching stuff on fire? But that was hardly the case, and my brain refused to register what had apparently happened, though it was right before my eyes.

Every last one of them, even Magneto himself, were collapsed on the floor. Unconscious, or worse.


	12. The New Mental Monster

_**ATTENTION! **_**Good, now that I have it, I want to ask something of you. Even though it's getting to be a longer story, I still want people reading to review! I need to know how I'm progressing on and how good or bad I'm moving things along, okay? It's not that hard, click a button and write something down! **

**Sorry for this one being shorter than the others, the next Chap. Will be longer…**

**I only own Rhianna, not the X-Men, Brotherhood, or Acolytes. Or Principal Kelly.**

**______________________________________________________________________**

"Not again…" I whispered. I hopped over to Pyro, the nearest, who was slouched over a box on the floor. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and put my fingertips on his temples.

For a moment I was surrounded by empty darkness, a void of nothing. Fears welled up in my heart. This only happened when someone was dead, or… when what happened to Glenn happened.

Suddenly I was consumed by a wall of fire, a burning inferno that surrounded my body and soul with pain. I let out a noise of surprise, quickly trying to suppress the flames. But they kept coming at me, taking different shapes and snapping out with vicious teeth and claws. One in particular, a giant fiery dragon, loomed in front of me, and abruptly all of the other monsters that were ablaze burned out. But the last one left lunged at me with vengeful fury, and I barely managed to jump out of the way. Gravity seemed to be increased in here, and it took momentous effort to just move one step, and much more to make a leap.

"Abasalom!" I screeched in desperation. As I dived out of the way, one of the flaming whiskers slashed across my arm, creating a distinct burn. I hardy noticed the pain. Abasalom didn't come, and I was left to fend for myself against this smoldering creature of legend.

While once again jumping out of the way in this heavy atmosphere, I just managed to see the pale outline of the white lion standing next to the glowing immortal. But he was not fighting. His pale shadow was just standing there, watching, waiting. For what? I was forced into a corner, obviously a bad place to be during a fight, and curled up to await the final blazing blow. It never came.

Hesitantly, I peeked out from over my arm, before jerking up in surprise. Pyro was awake, standing, and holding his hands to his head. I pressed my palms to the normally chilly floor under me. It was scorching hot, but that wasn't important. I hadn't been dreaming. Or rather, _he_ hadn't been dreaming. When had this turned into reality?

I looked to where I _knew_ Abasalom had been standing a moment ago. There was no insipid figure, no glowing red eyes. It was like he had never been there. But I had felt his presence, even outside of my mind.

"Rhianna? What happened?" Pyro looked thoroughly confused and fairly in pain, but I just glared at him. "What?" He flinched slightly, suddenly realized he had done something wrong.

"I _believe, monsieur_, you just tried to kill me." I hissed. Before he could answer, I turned away and walked over to Piotr's still body. His usual metal encasing was gone, though that took almost nothing off of his size. Instead of trying to go into his mind and risk another fight, I shouted in his ear, "WAKE UP! THIS ISN'T NAPTIME!" He jolted up off of the floor, looking around alertly.

"Much better. Now that I've got your attention, do you mind telling me what happened?" I asked with false sweetness.

"You… left. And… I cannot remember." He grimaced and rubbed his head.

"You guys are pathetic." I huffed. After a similar wake-up ceremony for Magneto and Remy, I just stood there glaring at them. "_Now_ does anyone want to tell me what happened?"

"Aww, don' be mad at us. We didn' do no wrong." Remy chimed. "But i' was da Rogue who did dat. I rememba dat much." I felt his conscious slipping away to a daydream.

"Hey, Lover Boy, don't float off yet." I shook my head before turning to Magneto. "So, _Monsieur_ Paper clip, what are we gonna do about it? Something not completely top-secret that I'm kept oblivious of, I hope?" I shot a venomous glance at Pyro and Remy, who both instantly looked away from my gaze.

"First of all, where were you?" Magneto said, obviously a sad attempt to attain control of the conversation. Pathetic, really.

"Out visiting some old haunts." I leaned up against the doorframe, hoping I sounded off-hand. It was absolutely none of their business where I had been.

"Wha' kinda 'visitin' cost three grand?" Remy asked crossly. His red-on-black devil eyes were narrowed dangerously, as he had obviously just remembered the lack of cash.

"One that goes to California to Canada. By the way, _Yeux de Serpent_, under your bed isn't the best place to hide that much money. Just saying." (Snake Eyes) I put on a beaming smirk, if that was even possible. "As I was saying, are we gonna do anything about it?"

"We have a graduation to go to." Magneto growled.

"Ooh, really? I thought your kids got expelled." I sniffed smugly. The look he gave me was definitely his most murderous glare yet.

--

It ends ol' Bucket-head wasn't kidding. This time I actually got to come along, though. And some new freaks that were previously unbeknownst to me. Except for Sabretooth, but he didn't really count. He was gone most of the time. A teenaged boy with white hair, Pedro, I think it was? Wanda, I could feel the power humming through her body. Searching for a way out. Toad was slightly… disturbing to say the least. He had a definite greenish pallor, and a _freaky_ tongue. Yuck. Blob was… well, a blob. A giant, disgusting, smelly blob. Though I could feel the power- raw strength, actually- that ripped through his body. It was just heavily layered with more than a healthy dosage of fat.

And so, in a rather ridiculous-though Remy assured me the humans would think it terrifying- we walked over to Bayville High to ruin the best day of the year for seniors. What joy.

Though I'll admit I did gain some amusement from the fleeing, flying red graduation coats, it was boring enough for me to wish I had said something about staying home. The field was emptied except for the man, whom I assumed was the principal, just trying to make things orderly. _Dream on, loser_, I thought.

Pedro quickly dragged Rogue in front of us, and Paper clip sent some of the metal chairs hurling around her. Her face wasn't mad or indignant, but it had an almost… sleepy quality to it. But I could feel another presence, somewhere around here… I cast my mental gaze about wearily.

"Magneto?! Explain yourself." The Professor's tone highly amused me. It sounded like an angry parent scolding a school child. Only difference, both of these men were well over sixty.

"The girl is under Mesmero's control, Charles. She attacked us to absorb our powers." Magneto's voice was thicker than ever, and it was really bothering me. But I had this nagging feeling that there was somebody else here, which happened to be a more preoccupying bother at the moment.

"What proof do you have?" The Professor's voice sounded on the smug side to me. He thought he had won.

"My surveillance cameras. They captured it all." Of _course_ Bucket-head needed to leave out the fact that I pulled their memories to the surface. Not that it was important or anything, with his fancy cameras everywhere. I rolled my eyes and put on a bitter pout as the chairs started to fly off in wild directions. _Bucket-head, you idiot! _I thought crossly.

Toad made a strangely graceful leap out of the way, they just bounced off of Blob like nothing, and I just stood behind Remy, who easily knocked them out of the way with his staff.

But then the strangest thing happened. Rogue took off to the sky. Like, actually _flying_.

"Rhi-"

"I'm on it!" I forced a nightmare into her mind, one of darkness. Not just regular darkness, though. Horrible, heavy, thick darkness, the kind of perpetual blackness that would weight her down and smolder her until her steadily disappearing figure was dragged to the ground. But my illusion bounced off of her mind as easily as the chairs had bounced off of Blob's stomach.

"Someone else is here!" I cried out in panic, redirecting the images toward the blocker. I tried to change the _cauchemar_ to something more terrifying, but they were already out of my head, and they rebounded uselessly off of his mind. Rogue's ascent had slowed a tiny bit when I mentally attacked her, but now she was flying freely off because of my lack of attentiveness. And now the other person had also gone out of range. I let out a noise of frustration and pain, falling to my knees. "He was right there…" I hissed.

"Who was?" The Professor asked curiously, but there was a definite demanding tone. I glared up at him.

"Mesmero."


	13. Fighting Pain and Playing with Fire

**Okey dokey, Chapter… 13 is done! Geez, this thing's getting long. **

**Seriously guys, I'm getting lonely! I haven't had any Reviews since Chapter 9, and I have NO earthly clue how I'm doing with not input! I know more than three people are reading this…**

**I do not own the Acolytes, Mesmero, X-Men, or any of that stuff. And I do not own **

_**Bruce Almighty**_**, somebody else does. However, the poem is mine, and Rhianna is mine. Or Edgar Allan Poe! I don't own him, either.**

* * *

Yeah yeah, words of truce blah, blah, blah. Flying home is evil little orbs, almost getting sick… yeah, I won't go into details. Either way, now we (Acolytes) were back at the dome. After the episode with Poe taking over my mind temporarily, I had a sudden creativity high. And so, like any good poet, I ended up writing about my own pain. Isn't that just typical?

_Stand in awe of the diamonds_

_Fall in love with the lions_

_You will die within your chamber_

_Let me beg you; I implore_

_To stay in fields of amber_

_Or writhe in pain forevermore_

_Is this your life, neglected, despond?_

_Or to wish someone forever fond?_

_Lost and forgotten in your slumber_

_Doomed and lost and forlorn?_

_No, you shant forget your wonder_

_Or writhe in pain forevermore_

_You must cease in your dying_

_And end all of your crying_

_You are not a gambler_

_Because life ain't a gamble_

_Embrace the fire in your soul_

_Or writhe in pain forevermore_

And apparently timing was for once on my side, because the moment (not even the second, the exact _moment_) that the poem-covered scratch paper was completely concealed, Pyro walked into the room. I could easily picture how that would go:

Pyro: "Hey, what's that?" *steal*

Me: "Give it back!"

Pyro: "Don't think so…" *awkward silence*

"What?" I knew my voice sounded defensive, but the _other inhabitants_ had pretty much gotten used to my moodiness lately. Well, I was pretty sure they did, anyways.

"S'it illegal to visit?" Pyro chimed, leaning on the doorway. I stood up and walked over to him, glaring. And _very_ aware of the note that lay only a few feet away under a single cushion. That pillow now seemed very unprotected.

"Only when you're visiting someone who just got their ass handed to them by the person they were convinced to _save_." I said coldly. I didn't know why, but the plain _truth_ of my words shocked me. I had expected for nothing but lies to spill from my lips.

"Why'd ya leave?" He asked bluntly. And, of course, completely changing the subject.

"Still none of your business, _Australien_." I quipped.

"Really?" He leaned forward, and my natural warning senses screamed for me to run away. "For all I know, you could've been, oh, _planning with the enemy_, and just _happen_ to come across something that could be used against us." I could hear the teasing note in his voice, but I still frowned.

"For all _you_ know," I muttered under my breath. Then out loud, "Yeah, like _I _would do that."

"You tryin' to imply somethin', girlie?" One of his eyebrows arched neatly.

"You never know." I pushed my bare palm against his cheek and he made a slight choking noise, almost falling stumbling to his knees. Because this time, instead of dispelling _my_ memories _out_, I was pulling _his in._ "With crazy people."

Crying, but not tears of sadness. Tears of anger. Staring at a harbor at sunset, a boat that said _Sydney, Australia_. A million shades of pink and orange reflecting off of the quiet waters. A classroom. A teacher, calling roll. "John Allerdyce." A hesitant hand, a high-pitched but eerily familiar voice, "Here." A woman's face, twisted with fury. Being surrounded by a tornado of fire, unburned. Writing by lamplight in a small room. A cunning-looking woman with distinctly blue-green skin. A plane ride. _Me_.

My eyes flew open and I jerked my hand away. He was panting slightly, now _relying_ on the doorway to hold him up.

"What was that for?" He wheezed with a sad attempt at indignance. Well, it may not have been an attempt, but I suppose it's hard to truly sound full of emotion when the wind's been knocked out of you. Though physical pain was not something I often endured.

"Your name's John?" I asked, amused.

"What of it?" He carefully placed more weight on his legs, and relying slightly less on the doorframe.

"It just sounds so…boring. I have to say I'm disappointed." Geez, _John Allerdyce?_ It sounded more like an elderly man than a mutant villain!

"What were ya 'specting, _Bruce Almighty?_" His voice was clear, and he was standing on his own feet. _He recovers much quicker than most people_, I noted with curiosity.

"Who was the blue lady?"

"The… oh, that would probably be Mystique. She's one of Magneto's lairs." He said coldly. "That hurt," He complained, rubbing his head.

"Don't be a wuss." I said it as if I didn't care, but I sent an illusion his way. Not an _illusion_, actually, but more of a feeling. A painless, soothing feeling.

"What all did you see?" Pyro- or John? - shifted his weight uncomfortably as he asked the question.

"That's for me to know and for you not to find out." I tried to close the door, but he jammed his foot in it.

"It's _my_ head; I think I have the right to know what you mess around with."

"It's too messed up _to_ mess around with." I snipped. He stayed perfectly still, determination unwavering. I would've given him credit for that, but I couldn't close my door because still holding it open with his foot. "Fine," I sighed, "Come in." I stepped away from the door, glancing around. It had the same hard metal walls like the rest of the place, but I had put up brightly-colored drawings and smooth, simple pictures to try to cover the harshness of it. So it didn't look like a jail.

"Okay, what do you want to know?" I snapped, "I just got a quick flash of memories."

"To start, how do you know my name?" I smiled at his accent on that particular sentence. Australians always had an almost… bouncy voice. Which made it always was entertaining to listen to.

"You were in a classroom, the teacher was calling roll. Unless, of course, you were so delusional that you raised your hand on the wrong name. Not that I would doubt that." I smirked. "Next?"

"Just repeat everything you saw." He offered unhelpfully. His easy, and slightly offhand, words didn't seem to match up with his expression. It was… dread? Either that or something _extremely_ close.

"It's hard to remember," I said, frowning. "After a while, it all sort of… mixes together. There was a lady yelling at you, though." I frowned as I desperately tried to remember more of that memory. "I think you were in a kitchen… with ugly yellow wallpaper. Your mom, perhaps?" Now his face pulled an expression of barely-concealed panic. It slowly melted into misery.

"I never understood why she was always mad at me." He mumbled, the sound barely audible. I wasn't sure if he intended me to hear it.

"And you say my life sucked. All the while hiding yours." I smiled at the slight irony of it.

"…Do you _really_ think I'm crazy?" He asked uncertainly.

"Everybody's a little bit crazy." I assured him, pulling him into a hug.

He tilted his head down and gave me a kiss.

**A/N: Seriously guys, I'm getting lonely! I haven't had any Reviews since Chapter 9, and I have NO earthly clue how I'm doing with not input! I know more than three people are reading this…**


	14. C'est vrai ?

**Okay, Chapter… something. I know this one's short, but I needed to get something out, so bear with me. **

**I do not own anything except for Rhianna and everything her little mind conjures up. Enjoy!**

Almost instantly I felt images pouring into him, through my lips and into his, flowing freely. I could feel his mind going hazy, his mental shields getting weaker. But for a moment I couldn't help but just savor the feeling of his warm body pressed against mine. Though I _really_ didn't want to, I had to push him away before he passed out. Or worse. I quietly tried to pull away from him, but his arms were wrapped tightly around me.

"You can be really stupid sometimes, you know that?" I muttered, ducking out of his embrace as he almost fell to the ground.

The second he snapped out of his dazed state, I growled, "If you say _any_ stupid comment right now, I will make it my personal quest to kill you." I could barely keep my tone somewhat-annoyed, though. He had on a cute pouty face, just like some young child would do when they knew they were in trouble.

"Any stupid comment, eh?" He teased, "If you want to kill me, just give me another kiss. Does that count?"

I scowled, but didn't just storm out like I usually did in tough situations. Or run-for-my-life out, which had happened fairly recently in the Xavier Institute. Or run-away-because-this-place-is-creepy, like at my old house. Definitely not a home, though. Just a house.

"Come on, you need to sit down before you collapse on the floor." I sighed, steering him towards the sitting chair while I plopped down on the edge of the bed.

A nagging notion about the blue woman I saw in his mind was pressing on the inside of my skull, and I wanted to avoid an awkward situation (Though Pyro was just splayed across the chair, as relaxed as ever), so I asked, "What's Mystique like?"

"Dat, y' will find ou' in _un moment_." Remy popped his head into the doorway. Once again, with the interruptions! Don't these people know the meaning of privacy?! Then I realized my door had been left wide open, and I mentally slapped myself.

"_Quand vient-elle ?_" (When is she coming?) I asked, relief filling through me at my native tongue. My little escape from this cruel english-speaking world. Or australian, but I wasn't sure if that could count as english.

"_Elle est ici._" (She is here.) Remy drawled boredly. "Come on."

Pyro, who was looking quite confused from the quick french interaction, followed us aimlessly through the cold metal hallways. He still looked a tad unsteady on his feet, which was making me worried enough, and the horrible hospital look of the hallways definitely wasn't helping. I could barely suppress shivering.

When we walked into the 'main entry,' Magneto was already there, along with the blue woman. She was actually less blue than Pyro's mind portrayed, really more of a green-blue color, like murky seawater. Except seawater didn't have bright red hair. Her eyes were sharp and cunning, and were an unexplainable glowing yellow. Though her outfit was rather skimpy, nothing but a small top and a long (Though extremely tight) white skirt with skull decorations at the waist. I didn't understand why, but I had a compelling feeling to not like her. Or maybe I did understand why…

I was making my retreat into the corner as usual with visitors (Christopher had taught me not to be seen or heard), but Piotr stopped me. He motioned with a jerk of his chin that I was part of this, and, grudgingly, I complied.

"So you bring a complete stranger into your little assembly, but not your most loyal follower?" She exclaimed furiously, setting those glowing amber eyes on me. But that's not what caught my attention, it was her voice. She had a clever voice, a persuasive voice. With her skin and tone together, she was starting to remind me of a snake. Not _a_ snake, _the_ Snake, from the Garden of Eden. Before they were bound to crawl on their bellies, and forced to be silent.

"You have too many secrets and things to be held against me to be a follower." Magneto droned boredly, "And her powers are far more important-and successful- than yours." I was about to object to that, but Remy gave me a warning look. _Just go with the flow_, he crimson-on-black eyes whispered.

"I don't believe this! Replacing me with a mere child!" I glared at her. First of all, I didn't _replace_ anyone. Secondly, eighteen-almost-nineteen is _not _a mere child. Not an eighteen-year-old who's been what I've been through, anyways.

"Stop making up excuses." I said in my unnerving voice. It was small and quiet, but had a definite eerie edge that sent shivers down other peoples' spines. It was my voice that I had learned to hide in middle school and high school, but had everyone scared in elementary. And the people around me never changed, even though my schools did. So I never had friends.

"What?" Mystique barked sharply at me.

"Magneto wouldn't have let you in his new group, anyways, so stop using me as an excuse. I'm not an excuse for you to use. You're too controlling, and would want your position raised up just one more step. Where_ he_ is now." I didn't know anything for sure, but I knew I had hit the mark at the look of slightly embarrassed horror on her face.

"Who told you that nonsense?" She demanded, but in a flustered way.

"I don't need to be _told_ things. Your complainative behavior and ambitious attitude give you away. You're not that hard to read, especially with gypsy methods." I gave the tiniest, slightly creepy smile. At the word _gypsy_, I felt a surge go through my body as the creatures made an escape for freedom. _Not now Dearies_, _I'll visit you in a moment._

But they obviously had other things in mind. I felt the pressure growing in my head, the familiar throbbing pain behind my eyeballs. I got a snobby, furious look from Mystique and a panicked, worried look from the rest. Especially Pyro.

I slowly lowered myself to my knees, which was no doubt much less painful than falling and splitting them open. That would definitely not be good. The pressure was building, but couldn't go anywhere. Kind of like slowly pulling a rubber band apart, the slow stretching, and then _BAM!_ I let out a cry of surprise as demons and monsters of all shapes and sizes exploded into the room, roaring and screeching and… dancing.

The others froze in shock as an enormous white lion with glowing red eyes tentatively stepped toward my still figure. I felt warm breath on my cheek, and looked up to see a large pink nose, almost as big as my palm. "I knew you were real. I knew I saw you." I whispered, gently stroking his whiskers. I saw my reflection in his clear, pupil-less scarlet eyes. The others slowly faded, exhausted from their outer-mind trip, and my body and mind swelled to welcome them back. But, with everything, the lions and the gypsies stayed.

Garnet glared at Mystique for a moment, before flicking her off with two fingers while turning away. I couldn't help but smile.

Sapphire, on the other hand, seemed to be uniquely curious about this similarly-colored being. She was taller than most of the other gypsies, and made a rather intimidating figure when she walked up to her, but Mystique stood up bravely to this blue beast, forcing her back straighter and her glare defiant.

And I knew the others could see them, too, because of the looks of mixed horror and awe on their faces. Ariel walked up to Magneto, leaning her head down to sniff his helmet curiously. Her nose wrinkles in disgust, and she tried to swipe at him with her paw, but the giant black mitt phased right through Magneto's body. Ariel jumped back in surprise, frowning. To my confusion, Bucket-head had no practically no reaction at all. Ariel disappeared, and after a moment I felt her retreating back into the red-skied meadows. Sapphire and the other gypsies hesitantly came back, too, and last but most definitely not least, Abasalom.

Wait, no, there was a little CROWS, too. The little jelly-pink rat was scuttling around on the floor, the scarab's wings flapping uselessly. Though they had wings, I had never really considered granting them with the gift of flight. Scarabs aren't the smartest things, you know.

"Come on, little guy." The jelly rat pulled the reins back towards me, and the scarab made a mighty leap in the air, disappearing into a tiny strawberry-smelling puff. I looked around, amused, at the others' faces.

"What do you know? I'm not crazy after all."


	15. Master of Fire, Mistress of Shadows

Okay, a tad of a suspenseful ending here, shameless stealing of commercial idea there. The usual.

I do not own the Acolytes or Mystique, just Rhianna and all her mind conjures up. And yes I realize some of this is in Spanish, not French, but it's basic and not hard to understand. Enjoy!

Remy's look of amusement. Cheap.

Pyro's look of horror. Common, but entertaining.

Mystique's face. Priceless.

"Thank you for that demonstration. It was very… surreal." Magneto said calmly. Now I realized why he had kept his cool throughout the whirlwind of insanity. He was making it look like he had complete control over what I did, so make his own figure more imposing. I let it slide for now, but I knew I would have to set a limit later.

"Now that your complaints are done, I would like to know how the plans with the Brotherhood are going." Magneto went on tranquilly, but I could sense the feeling of arrogance beneath.

"They're… not so well. Pietro's leadership has been... unfathomable, and Wanda's anger is once again surfacing." Mystique said hesitantly. Yes, she was most definitely appropriately creeped out.

"Mastermind didn't change her memories properly." I said softly.

"What?" They both (Magneto and Mystique) snapped instantly.

"Mastermind didn't change them, the most effective way, he just covered them up. Like covering wallpaper with paint. Give it a while, and the paint chips off, leaving ugly wallpaper. Which leaves Wanda in an ugly mood." I sighed.

"How do you know what Mastermind did?" Magneto asked suspiciously.

I shrugged. These people were so predictable. "I could feel where he tampered, and I could feel it peeling off. It's not going to last much longer." I hinted, for you never know with these people. They were so thick-skulled!

We (Me, Remy, Pyro, and Piotr) left the room a little while later to leave Mystique and Magneto to talk and plot in peace. And as I was staring through my favourite window (The only window, actually) at the darkening sky, an idea came to me. An evil grin came upon my face as I walked quickly and quietly towards Pyro's room.

I knocked on it sharply, only two times. The second the door opened, I grabbed his arm (Which was luckily covered by his jumpsuit) and dragged him towards the window.

"Where are we going?" He asked in confusion. So typical. So cute.

"We're gonna have some fun." I answered, pushing boxes up to the window and creating a makeshift ladder. "Come on, what are you waiting for?" I called tauntingly as I jumped out the window. I paused on the roof to make sure he was following, before using the rain gutter as a fire pole and sliding down. He landed with a gentle thud next to me.

"How do you propose we 'have fun'?" He inquired a suggestive hint in his voice.

"Dream on," I sniffed, "We're gonna go catch some stuff on fire, mess with people on the streets, and see what the mighty X-Men do about it."

He shrugged, "I liked my idea better, but this's okay, too."

Somehow, we ended up in a bar, with Pyro in a drinking contest. I wasn't legal, and had no taste for it, anyways, so I was just enjoying watching the whole bar get more and more drunk as the minutes ticked by. Crying out in triumph as the other guy passed out on the floor, Pyro walked back towards me, only slightly unsteady on his feet. This was a surprise, considering the amount of stuff he had chugged down. When I commented about that, he just said, "Few schooners never killed anybody."

Assuming a 'schooner' was a beer, I replied, "But a lot has."

On the way out, the bartender blocked my way, holding out his hand pointedly. I just tossed a large wad of twenties into his outstretched palm, (Courtesy of Remy's newfound money hiding place) and parted with, "Go buy yourself something nice."

"Now we go catch stuff on fire." Pyro said, matter-of-factness slightly beaten down due to the slur.

"C'mon, there's the lot." I said, smiling with amusement. Even drunk, he was still entertaining. I gave a little bow and said graciously, "Ladies first." Apparently the alcohol had a delayed effect, because now he seemed to be much more drunk than on the walk over here.

But, of course, he just started shooting fire at the storage areas with his crazy, maniacal laugh. Grinning, I started to make a new creature in my mind. It was just a tiny glowing orb, but it could do some amazing, not-so-tiny things.

"Watch this!" I threw the orb, which I decided to name Torres, into the air. He hovered there for a minute, before exploding into a giant lion, silently roaring into the sky. I started laughing hysterically for no reason, and suddenly I realized some of the basis for Pyro's craziness. This was _fun_.

Pyro frowned slightly at the challenge, and a fiery dragon flew up into the air from his flamethrower. "Bring it on!" He shouted between hysterics. We were both laughing as the two flaming beasts started slashing at each other into the sky.

"How long 'til the X-geeks come and ruin our fun?" I called, half shrieking with laughter. Torres sharply transformed into a giant alligator, easily twice as big as Pyro's dragon. It sharply bit on the dragon's neck, and I screeched hysterically, "Off with their heads!" as the flaming dragon head began its descent and dispersed in midair.

And, never to back down from a challenge, Pyro's dragon grew two heads in the place of one. "Hey! It's supposed to be a dragon, not a Hydra!" I shouted.

"All's fair in love and-" He hiccupped, and the Hydra-Dragon hiccupped, too. I started laughing so hard that I lost concentration on Torres, who went to greet the other freaks and fools inside my head. I also felt a darker, crueler copy follow. The mistress of shadows and Torres' sister, Dulce.

"Hey loo-" Pyro hiccupped again, but continued, "There's some funny people. 'S'it 'Alloween already?"

I turned around and, sure enough, a few of the X-Men had been sent to check it out. I could see by their expressions that we weren't what they expected-or wanted- to see. Instantly Skunk-head ran at me. Dulce eagerly reached towards her, so powerfully that a small, dark orb appeared in my hand. An even smaller light was throbbing in the middle of it, like a heartbeat_. Hola, señorita_, I frowned at the unfamiliar language in my head, but it continued with, _My shadow is yours_. _Darkness is yours._ Dulce's voice was strangely tempting, and the light inside the dark orb started pulsing faster. Without thinking, I hurled it towards the angry country girl running at me. And the whole world was coated in darkness.

I knew I hadn't passed out. I could still feel the people around me, especially Pyro. But that might've been because his brain waves weren't working quite right then. I followed the map my mind set up of the area, and ended up right next to Pyro in the darkness. And with a jolt, I realized the darkness was an illusion, but you couldn't feel darkness, anyways, so they wouldn't know that.

"Come on, time to go home." I murmured in his ear.

"But I wan' stay." He whined.

"Well, I don't know how long this darkness lasts, and somebody's gotta drag your drunk-ass self back." I hissed, pulling him by his bright orange hair toward the exit. With a jolt, I realized that it was Dulce giving me the map, pulling and pushing me around, even without the ability of touch. She was leading me the right way using my own mind. _Thank you_, I thought, to see if I got a reaction. _De Nada_, señorita, her tiny voice piped up. I smiled.

I was still smiling as I stared at the ceiling in my room, after putting Pyro (Who was almost passed out) up and carefully avoiding Magneto. With any luck, nobody would find out about out little nighttime escapade. Though they would probably expect something when Pyro (I sniggered inwardly as I thought his other name, John, too) woke up with a huge hangover the next morning.

I fell into a blessed sleeping darkness, but the last thing I remembered was a sweet, innocent voice and a pulsing white background luring me into a blessed painless darkness. _Tú eres mía, señorita_.


	16. Attempts at Existence

**Yeah, I suddenly got the urge to do a song chapter, so here we go, starting off with an oh-so-famous lullaby!**

I do not own the X-Men, people, but everybody else is mine. I think this is happening in one of Rhianna's twisted nightmare/dream/illusion sequences (Conjured by evil Candy). I'm not sure who wrote Freer Jacques, so I can't give them credit, but Imaginary is owned by Evanescence, sung by Amy Lee. Enjoy!

_Frère Jacques, frère Jacques_

A tiny, childish voice was singing in the background, but I knew that didn't make sense. Because nothing made sense. I didn't have a brother. I didn't know anybody named John. Or maybe I did? Or maybe I didn't exist, but my almost parents had a child named John. Or perhaps it could be talking about a church, with Brothers and Sisters everywhere. There could be Brother Johns everywhere.

_Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?_

Was I asleep? Was Brother John asleep? Perhaps, perhaps not. Maybe sleep didn't exist. After all, if there is nothing in existence, and sleep was something, how could it exist? And why would the word 'something' exist if there was nothing in existence? Why would there be language? More importantly, why would there be words? And how could I hear them? Hearing didn't exist.

_Sonnez les matines! Sonnez les matines!_

Morning bells, morning bells… Morning bells were real, I knew that much. Maybe the world was infinite nothingness with morning bells? If there was a world, that is. But then they wouldn't be bells, because nobody would have been there to name them that. Cloches de matin, morning bells, campanas de la mañana, morning bells, sabah çanları, morning bells, ochtend klokken, morning bells…

_Ding, dang, dong. Ding, dang, dong_

The morning bells existed. And I could hear them because hearing existed. Sounds slowly started coming to life around me. Crickets chirping. Crickets exist, so shouldn't bugs exist, too? A heard a dim hoo, which mean owls exist. And other birds do, too, to eat the crickets and bugs. And mice exist, so the owls won't get hungry. And seeds exist for the mice to eat, and the sun exists to feed the seeds, so heat exists. Feeling exists. And sight exists. But so do numbness, burning, and blindness. Why does something exist, if it is just taken away?

A sky appeared above me, because sight exists, and it turned purple, because color exists. And singing starte4d, because songs exist. And songs exist because hearing exists.

_I linger in the doorway of alarm clocks screaming, monsters calling my name_

And doorways exist to allow passage, and monsters scream from the shadows, and you can hear their existence because hearing exists. And doorways exist to let bodies pass through, because physicality exists. "Get up, Rhianna! Can't you do anything?" Monsters.

_Let me stay where the wind will whisper to me, where the rain drops as they're falling tell a story_

And stories exist because songs exist because hearing exists. And they're all beautiful. And whispers exist and pain exists and rumor exists. And wind exists because feeling exists. And we all live in harmony existence.

_In my field of paper flowers, my candy clouds of lullabies_

Lullabies are beautiful, and so are flowers, because sight exists. And then I was standing in a huge, beautiful field of paper flowers. And candy, dulce, exists. Taste exists, and sweetness exists. And evil exists. And evil Candy exists and destroys memories.

_I lie inside myself for hours and watch my purple skies fly over me_

And memories exist, those painful and those sweet. Hospitals exist because pain exists. I remember crying myself asleep due to the pain of memories. And because the Monster screaming at me, and a pretty sky and a diamond palace. And I remember because of memories that lots of pain happens at hospitals. And death exists. And victory exists, and Victoire used to exist. And she was beautiful.

_Don't say I'm out of touch with this rampant chaos, your reality_

"You don't know anything! You should try to feel what it's like out there, in the real world, instead of wasting my time and money on hospital bills for nothing!" Monsters. Anger exists because of the pain we all feel that life is full of it.

_I know well what lies beyond my sleeping refuge, the nightmare I built my own world to escape_

"Au revoir, celui qui a été une fois aimé." Goodbye, one who was once loved. Love, beauty, and pain swirling around in unknown, mysterious darkness. That was Life. Diamonds and pale faces and four-armed creatures. Throwing up because of nauseous hospital smells. A boy with dreadlocks writhing in pain on the floor. Tears existing because pain exists. Accusation. I have my own two worlds, Once Who Was Once Loved, and my other world is refuge, which is safety. From the pain.

_Swallowed up in the sound of my screaming, cannot cease for the fear of silent nights…_

Screaming and pain and screaming, my screaming, Glenn's screaming. Glenn, because names exist. Screaming and swallowing darkness and drowning in silence. Is this what I have been doomed to, or what is to come?

_Oh, how I long for a deep, sleep dreaming. Goddess of imaginary light…_

Never had I once had a dreamless night. And my dreams cause others' nightmares. Friends. Friends made of fire, metal, and playing cards. Friends with a purple face and glowing amethyst skin. "Shh, child." Whispering. "Silence is not always cruel." More faces, more colours, more beauty.

I just listened, enjoying the existence of hearing, and lullabies, and song, and beauty.

_In my field of paper flowers, my candy clouds of lullabies_

_I lie inside myself for hours, and watch my purple skies fly over me…_

Flowers…

I realized the true meaning of life (No matter how many times you've heard that before), because I had gone through the beginning of existence once again, learning all over again like a baby but with the ability to remember it. I never had the chance, and this chance was given by something taken away. My knowledge of existence.

_Dulce._

The gypsies, the Lions, and Torres teamed up on the dark figure, who had retreated into a shadowed corner.

"You destroyed my life." My memories were catching up to me, and my voice held no room for forgiveness.

"But I helped you realize meaning." The shadowy figure purred.

"Which I didn't need." I hurled the horrible monster, the evil twin, the Mistress of Darkness, out of my mind. But I forced her not to go into anyone else's. Friends, like Piotr and Remy. More than friends, like Pyro. Or miscellaneous people like Bucket-head and Mrs. Blue.

And thus Dulce dried up and died without life to feed on, just like the parasite Darkness would do. It was still hard to feel her screaming pain as she dispersed into the now-unbreatheable air.

I let out a cry of surprise as I was thrown sharply to the ground. But that's not what I was surprised about. I could feel the ground. It was real. I was real.

And I was ravenous, which was the first completely sane thought that hit me. Quickly scurrying to the kitchen, I opened a can of ravioli and swallowed it down whole. Well, not whole, but the bites were huge enough for me to consider them whole. And after that I was still hungry, so I started taking out cheerios and a bowl. Geez, somebody'd think I hadn't eaten in days! While I was pouring the milk, I heard something drop behind me. Turning around, I saw a face I had only seen in my dreams. Or had I?

"Bonjour Remy, et bon matin." I chimed as I passed him, still frozen with shock. I had seriously weird friends, apparently.

I turned around and walked out of the room with my bowl of cheerios, smiling. My grin became even wider as I successfully made it to the big dome room, but I looked different. I was pretty sure there hadn't been a big TV before, and there had been no window. Did we move or something? Geez, it was just one night. Overachievers much?

I plopped down in the squishy chain before the TV, looking for the remote. Or was the big keyboard thing the remote? Hmm…

I experimentally pressed a large square button, and instantly had music blasting louder than full-blast in my ears. With a cry of surprise, I started jabbing at other keys of various shapes and sizes, and I only succeeded in changing the style of music. Oh, come on!

"The music be stopping now?" A teasing, but very thick, accent floated from behind me.

Instantly forgetting about the music, I flung my arms around the giant, amazing-eyed Russian. "Piotr!" When I stood back, he just stared at me. I tried not to think about the annoying music, but then trying to not think about it made me think about it again.

"_Ha… Piotr… Maintenant il y a du lait sur vos chassures_," I said, observing the liquid that had spilled over his shoes and the floor. He just kept staring at me. "_Allo_?" I shouted, waving my hand in front of his face.

I rolled my eyes and started down a different hall, but it turned weirdly at one side, so I knew it wasn't the right hallway. Well, it was the right hallway in my mind, but the wrong one in real life. Weird…

Nonsense gibberish started behind me, but ended with only one recognizable word- "_non_?" I turned and smiled, though somewhat uncomfortably, at Remy. What was all that about?

"_Quoi _?" (What?)I asked in confusion.

Confusion knitted his eyebrows together, and he opened his mouth again- and nonsense came rolling out. He started to appear honestly alarmed, but he continued speaking gibberish.

"_Je ne te comprends pas_." (I don't understand you) I sighed in annoyance. What was this his problem?

"_Te ne peux plus parler le français, c'est vrai_ ?" (You can't speak English anymore, can you?) Something along the lines of realization showed in his crimson-on-black eyes.

"_Je n'ai jamais pu_." (I never could.)


	17. The Search Part 1

After many strange looks and a few hours of Remy playing translator, there was only one problem yet to be solved.

"_Où est John_ ?" (Where is Pyro?) I asked, looking curiously at Remy. He glanced over at Piotr and muttered something in English. Piotr shrugged, glancing back at me.

"_On ne sait pas. Il est absent depuis deux jours_." (We don't know. He's been missing for two days.) Remy said uncertainly.

"…QUOI ? ! PORQUOI VOUS NE M'AVEZ PAS DIT ? !" (WHAT? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?) I screeched, glaring at both of them. Remy stood his ground, but held up his hands in defense. Like that would do anything when this came to blows.

"_Nous avons pensé vous avez été morts. Il est probablement juste sorti pour avoir d'un moment seul_," (We all thought you two were dead. He probably just went out to have a moment alone) Remy said quickly. I glared at both of them and left the dome. Nobody tried to stop me. In fact, Magneto was even kind enough to open a door in the wall on the way out.

And then I discovered why everything inside looked so different. We weren't in a dome anymore, but perched atop of a building in the midst of the city.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Ugh…" Pyro opened his eyes to a dark room. If it could even be called that, it was tiny! He waited a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark, and memories slowly started trickling back to him. He had been… at the bar? Piotr and Remy had been asleep, but he couldn't even manage to close his eye. Not with the perhaps-dead body of Rhianna just a few rooms over. So he had gone to the bar and then… something.

He frowned, then jolted off of the floor. It was moving. He paused to consider this. So he was in a… truck? Yes, the back of a truck. People these days were so uncreative. He couldn't help but smile. This was going to be fun. Pyro pulled his hands in fists to activate his flamethrower.

Nothing happened. There was no flame. There was no flamethrower. Wishing, not for the first time, that he could actually make fire for himself, he collapsed down onto the floor of the truck. No fire meant no powers. He tried to look through his fuzzy memories again.

No wonder he didn't have his flamethrower, he hadn't been wearing it. Pyro could remember that much. But obviously something had to have happened to get him from the bar to a truck on its way to who-knows-where. Okay, he had been having a drinking contest with one of the regulars (which explained his pounding headache), and… the windows crashed? Pyro quickly seized the memory as it flew by, frowning slightly. Okay, everybody ran when the windows crashed in, except for him, completely drunk and thoroughly amused by the suited men with guns. Why'd they crash the windows in, though? Dramatics, all of 'em.

Hmm… Somebody hit him with something. The butt of a gun, maybe? And then he woke up here. Not much to work with. He felt his way to the back door, with a vain hope it was locked from the inside. No such luck.

Taking a deep breath, he walked to the opposite side of the miniscule enclosure, frowning at the dim outline of sunlight coming from in-between the two doors. With another deep breath, he charged at the doors full speed and slammed into them. He closed his eyes for the collision, but bounced uselessly off of the metal with a loud _ding!_

Well, that was effective.

To make his uncomfortable current predicament worse, two small holes had opened up on either side of the truck's interior, and they started spraying nauseously-colored gas. Pyro held his breath as long as he could, but soon passed out on the floor.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I sat on a bench in the middle of Central Park, but in a shaded area where I was less likely to be discovered by some random passerby. It must have been a strange sight; me curled up on the bench, frowning at nothing in deep concentration. I had to find him.

I was using the memories I had gathered from him when he had been leaning on my doorframe… and now I might never see him again. _Stop thinking like that_, I berated myself crossly, and once again set off with memories. If he had left at night, and been gone for two days… he could've gone all the way around the globe by now! Heck, he could've circled the earth twice, if he was in a fast enough plane.

I focused on the most specific memory, of the teacher calling roll in the classroom, and pushed it all over New York City. Every single mind it bounced to immediately rejected it as not theirs, and I grimaced at the pain of the memory returning with a million times the force.

Tears were streaming out of my eyes at the pain of the returned, rejected memory, combined with the pain of him leaving in the first place. There was only once place left to go in order for me to have a chance of finding him, though a slim one.

I grimaced at the all-too-familiar gateway in front of me. The Xavier Institute for Gifted Children. I wasn't dumb enough to think I could just prance in; I'd probably get shot thirty times before making it halfway to the front door.

There was one of those doorbell-talky things next to me, so I pressed the button and waited. After a moment, it said, "Who is it?" It sounded a bit like the laser-eyed guy.

"_Bonjour_, I need to talk to zhe Professeur, _s'il vous plait_ ?" I murmured softly into the microphone. Bits and pieces of English were coming back to me, but most of the current language was guesswork.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and I held my breath as a constricting feeling squeezed my ribs. What if they still saw me as an enemy? I let out a sigh of relief when the gates opened, though I had no doubt I wouldn't be welcome.

As I reached down for the large, intimidating doorknob, it opened for me. A girl with a high brown ponytail and a subtle layer of makeup was at the door, and I guessed she was about sixteen. She looked disturbingly familiar.

"Like, hi. I'm Kitty." She chimed. I nodded quickly, and Kitty led me down a hallway to a door- one that seemed to have accidentally been left ajar.

"You can't let her join the team! She left us in ruins!" The laser-eyed teen exclaimed.

"Yes, but-" I chose that moment to push open the door and let myself in.

"Y' in luck zhen, _non_?" I sniffed coldly. "I need to find _un ami, pouvez-vous m'aider_?" I grimaced at the substitutions I had to make for my lack of vocabulary, and could do nothing but hope the message would get across.

"You wish to use Cerebro." The Professeur said quietly. I nodded and he asked diplomatically, "Who, might I ask, are you trying to find?"

"Y' don' need to know zhat" I responded coldly. I was trying to remember the way Kitty led me to get here through the hallways, but was unsuccessful. I would have to guess my way out like last time if things made a turn for the worse. Though of course it had all gone wonderfully last time, too.

"Relax, Rhianna. We're only trying to help. How can you expect me to find someone if I don't know who I'm looking for?" The Professeur explained.

"I didn' say y' were gonna _chercher mon ami_. I don' wan' _ou_ need your 'elp. I _juste_ need to find 'im," I said dully, "I 'ave mind mageek, too."

After a pause, he said,"Very well. Follow me." He used the control stick to turn the wheelchair around and I followed, leaving Laser-eyes behind with a shocked look on his face.

The Professeur led me to a large, round room with a single walkway extending to the middle. We walked up to the computer-like desk, and the Professeur handed me a strangely-shaped metal helmet.

"When I leave the room, put this on your head and concentrate only on the person you are looking for, though I must warn you it rarely works if the mutant you're looking for hasn't used their powers in a while." I nodded, and he left. Leaving me in the big, cold metal dome. Serious _déjà vu_.

Taking a deep breath, I did as I was told and put it over my head. The metal was cold, but instantly adjusted to the size of my skull as if it were alive. I closed my eyes and searched across the United States for memories of a certain school, a certain classroom, and a certain very special name. John Allerdyce.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Pyro once again woke up in the dark, but this time it felt…different. Still cold, hard, and metal, but there was something- that's it. The truck wasn't moving. And there was a strange feeling in his head, which caused him to worry if he'd slammed it against something during his fall. _Your mind's too messed up to mess around with_. In this case, that was probably a good thing.

Pyro smiled. He loved Rhianna's voice. Despite the fact that she had a mostly-American accent, there was still that constant… smoothness, which could only be found in french accents. You can't fake a voice like that. He lied down and just went through memories. If he started worrying about his current position, he would probably have a panic attack, which would no doubt result in getting knocked out again.

It all started in the forest. All of the Acolytes were having a grand old time. He personally had created a few flaming horses to distract Wolfy and Miss Priss, while Colossus and Gambit went out to do whatever they were doing. He had simply acted as a distraction on that particular mission. And then-ta daa!- they were headed back home, with a strange girl in tow. They still hadn't told them exactly how they found Rhianna, so Pyro had assumed simply that she was the reason they had gone out there in the first place.

Pyro jumped slightly as the doors to the back of the truck opened, and grimaced at the near-blinding light that came through. What kind of sensible person would to a kidnapping in broad daylight? He was starving, tired, sore, and weak from the ride, and wasn't even able to put up a fight when two men in official-looking uniforms dragged him out into the blinding sunshine. Though he did manage to catch a glimpse of a tag on the chest of the uniform. It read, S.H.I.E.L.D.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I was being swept through cloudy darkness, with different people and faces flashing before my eyes. Though technically my eyes were closed, I could still see. A woman with green hair walked in front of me, and as I skipped by her a darkly tanned boy with a single earring soared by. I frowned and concentrated harder, but this time instead of memories, I put a picture of his face in my head.

There was a girl who appeared to be on fire, a man running through an alleyway, an unnervingly pale alien-like creature with big yellow eyes. Then- I locked on a face, which was looking down. What had grabbed my attention was his bright red hair, and I had to try to suppress a smile.

Pyro.

He wasn't moving, and he seemed tired. Going against instinct, I slowly pulled away from him, upwards. Kind of like on Google Earth. The houses got smaller and smaller, and then I could see water. An ocean? Or a bay, perhaps? But then I recognized the shape of the area, from my textbooks as a child. He was in Louisiana.

New Orleans, it looked like.

I jolted backwards in surprise, yanking the helmet off of my head and dashing towards the metal X-marked door. Luckily it opened before I either slammed through it or went _splat!_ into the wall.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" The Professeur asked in a pleasant tone, rolling up to me with Laser-eyes at his side. Was he mocking me? But he still had that studied, weathered expression and thoughtful eyes.

"Don' y' know? Don' play _stupide,_" I snapped crossly.

"No, Rhianna, I don't. I can only get an impression of your mind, but I can't look through fully. There seems to be quite a few obstacles," He added with a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Ha! _J'ai sait_ nobody could get past Abasalom," I exclaimed joyously, basking in a moment of triumph.

"Hmm…" I pushed my hand to Laser-eye's face. I grimaced in disgust as I swam through gooey moments with a redhead girl, and quickly found directions to fly a plane. A very specific plane. Abasalom came over into Scott's mind and helped me pull the directions into mine.

I watched in boredom as Cyclops collapsed on the floor. "_Au revoir, Monsieur Xavier_," I chimed, running towards the jet hangar and leaving the Professeur to recuperate himself (Luckily, One-eye had a map of the Institute inside of his head). To my surprise, the Professeur didn't do anything. He just placed his hands under his chin and watched after me with that same thoughtful expression.

Either way, it didn't matter to me what notions went through the middle-aged man's mind. I was gonna get outta here. I jumped onto the plane (The password to open it had conveniently been inside Scott's head, too), and quickly started pressing buttons and pulling levers. I didn't even have to think about it, every motion felt like one I had done a thousand times, it was all muscle memory. It just hadn't been _my_ memory.

And then I was off to New Orleans.


	18. The Search Part 2

**Okay, onward to the next Chapter! This is where things get interesting… Oh, and sorry of details in places aren't right, I'm just trying to remember some stuff…**

**I do not own anything in this story except for Rhianna and all of her mind conjurances. I don't own Shreck, either. Enjoy!**

* * *

Despite the fact that the jet was extremely fast and cool-looking, it still took a good three hours to get all the way down to New Orleans. And once you're in the air, there isn't all that much to do. The jet pretty much flew itself; the only manual things were the take-off and landing.

I wondered around the jet, getting familiar with the layout. Not that I really needed to, though, with Cyclops' memories in my head. I tried not to go through them, I really did, but it was hard not to. They just kept popping up. I was surprised he didn't _drown_ in his own mind. But then I remembered that nobody else had access to their mind like I did, with physical beings and creatures that have the ability to control their own actions.

I practiced letting the creatures out of my mind, but it wasn't easy. After a while I could bring the gypsies out, but only two at a time. Amethyst's dark purple figure was sitting next to me on one side, and Amber's shining orange one on the other. I had rarely felt so safe.

"How do you plan to bring him back?" Amethyst murmured softly. I didn't know how, but when the gypsies spoke in English, it came through my ears as French, and when I spoke in French they understood it, so I assumed it was the same with them.

"_D'abord, je dois le trouver_." (First, I have to find him.) I murmured quietly. "_Il serait beaucoup plus facile si je savais où il était._" (It would be much easier if I knew where he was."

Amber smiled sympathetically, before retreating back into my head. She knew when a conversation was mean to be more private. But Amethyst soon followed her, after giving me a kiss on the cheek. I sighed. Glancing at the clock, I couldn't help but grimace at it. I still had another hour before the estimated landing time. Which begged the question: where _could_ I land?

Sighing, I brought Abasalom and Ariel up in front of me, but not as fearsome lions. They were merely kittens, Abasalom a little white tom-kit with red eyes, Ariel a fluffy black she-kit with glowing purple eyes. They would stay with me when I landed, and little kittens with strange eyes were much more discreet than seven-foot lions. I wasn't trying to attract attention. Not right now, anyways.

Abasalom hopped up on my lap and pressed his warm, furry forehead to mine. I heard his high-pitched, but still growly voice inside my head. _I don't want to fight for no reason, and Ariel does. I will act as your protector, your guardian, to save you from danger and try to prevent it. Ariel will be your warrior, she will fight at your will and at her own._

I smiled and pulled them both into my arms. "Of course, _mon_ _petits chatons_." I murmured softly. Abasalom was my little guardian, and Ariel fought the others. Wasn't that the way things were meant to be, the good fighting for what they believe in and the bad fighting for the sake of fighting?

_"Warning: Target Area approaching. Switching off of autopilot in… ten… seconds." _A mechanical female voice droned over the speakers. Ariel and Abasalom disappeared quickly into my mind as I walked back up to the cockpit.

My panic levels pretty much peaked the moment before landing, accompanied by a loud _Oomph!_ and quite a few curses in French. Muttering under my breath, I suddenly felt sorry for all of the poor blokes who had to do that multiple times a day. _Blokes?_ I shook my head. Nerves must have been getting to me.

I hopped off the jet (which was hidden in a clearing in a dark forest. Scary, huh?) and the first problem rumbled through my abdomen. _No point in searching on an empty stomach_, I thought as I headed to a small, beat-up restaurant nearby. When I sat down in a booth, I almost broke down crying.

Why? Because it was almost exactly like the one Alexandrine and I had run, not so long ago. And I would never see her round, smiling face again.

--

Pyro awoke, once again, to complete darkness. _These blokes really needed to get some new tricks; it was getting kind of old_, he thought. Though this time there was no alcoholic fog in his memory, so he knew what happened after the uniformed men dragged him out of the back of the truck. He had been tossed into another room and gassed again. If they kept it up, they were gonna get predictable.

Glancing around, he realized multiple things: One, it appeared to be an interrogation room. Two, he was sitting on a steel chair with a steel desk in front of it. Three, the steel chair and desk were welded solidly to the floor. And four, he was handcuffed to the desk and chair, one wrist attached to each by a thin metal chain.

And he didn't have his flamethrower. Hell, he didn't even have a lighter! They must've stolen them.

In the process of trying to figure out where the dim light in the room was emating from, a door opened. A door that had been so camouflaged by the wall, Pyro hadn't even noticed it.

Now currently in the room was a very strange-looking man. He was stocky and burly-looking, with near-permanent frown lines. But that wasn't his strangest feature: He was wearing an eye-patch. C'mon, a freakin' _eye-patch_.

But it was always best to go with the cheery approach, to confuse them. "G'day, mate." Pyro chimed happily.

"Don't play stupid." The man growled.

"Stupid?" Pyro exclaimed, sounding offended. "I was bein' _polite_, dipstick." The man slammed his hands down onto the table.

"You think you're funny? Well, here's a news flash: You're not. As of now, you are under national arrest." He snarled.

"Says who, ratbag?" He retorted. "I didn' do nothin', and you can't prove it. Wanna cuppa tea while you're at it?" That seemed to really piss the guy off.

"By the way, may I ask exactly what I'm being charged for?" Pyro inquired sneeringly.

The man actually _smiled_ at that. "First of all, being an unregistered mutant. Secondly, multiple accounts of destruction of public and private property. Thirdly, after you and your little _friend_ got the storage bay on fire it exploded, which costs millions of dollars to repair."

Pyro just smirked and said, "That was _some_ party."

And now he appeared to be getting a bit frustrated. "Where are the others?" He demanded.

"Hmm… what is that from?" Pyro muttered thoughtfully.

"What?"

"It's from a movie." He explained. "But I can't remember what it was- aha! _Shreck_, remember? When Lord Farquad's interrogating the gingerbread man!" Pyro tried to unsuccessfully lean back in the chair (all four legs were fused to the floor) so instead just put on a smug expression.

--

After quickly leaving the restaurant (With a hefty tip), I had nothing to do but wander around. I wasn't exactly sure what I was _looking_ for. Maybe a 'Crazy Pyromaniacal Australian This Way' sign or something? I didn't even know. Kitten-Ariel, who was riding on my shoulder, suddenly hissed. I glanced at her in confusion. "_Quel est erroné, Chaton-Ariel_?" (What is wrong, Kitten-Ariel?) She let out an annoyed mew, and Abasalom wriggled around in my arms to look up. They were both staring in the same direction.

"_D'accord_," I sighed. "We go y' way now." I followed their careful directions through multiple crowded streets and empty, dank alleyways.

"_Chatons? _'Ow much longer?" I panted, a good while later. I was tired, though that could have something to do with waking up from a coma-like state just this morning. Abasalom let out an encouraging _mew_, and pointed his quivering pink nose one more time, in the direction of a large, but shady-looking house. "Y' wan' me ta go in dere?" I muttered in disbelief. They both nodded. But when I took a step, they both let out squeals of alarm. "What?" They both shook their heads sharply, and pointed their nose in another direction. Behind me. Abasalom and Ariel faded as I fell heavily onto the floor.

--

"C'mon, please? Maybe even just a lighter?" Pyro, after seriously annoying Pirate-Patch, had been dragged into _yet another_ room, which came with its own personal guard. Pyro was now trying to convince the guard to give him a match or a lighter.

"Boss say no fire." The guard huffed. Maybe it was the pin-sized head lost in the swimming shoulder muscles, or perhaps the fact of his horrible grammar, but Pyro got the impression that this guy wasn't very smart.

"What if you heard 'im wrong? What if boss say fire?" Pyro mused. Actually, this whole trip was turning out to be quite amusing. Despite the fact that he hadn't eaten all day, and it felt like his stomach was caving in on itself.

"No." He said gruffly. "Boss say no fire. Boss say Fire-Man try to trick Gale into giving fire, but boss say no fire."

"Gale? That's an odd name. I knew a girl named Gail once." Pyro said dryly. The guard obviously didn't have the mental capacity to realize he had been insulted, which was proving to be a problem. How do you get to someone who's dumber than a drongo?

"Yes, Boss?" Gale put his fingertip to his ear, probably activating some sort of com-link. "Yes, Boss." He finished the conversation. This guy had the vocabulary of a two-year-old, for Pete's sake!

After being dragged by Gale and another guy with similar stature and intelligence back into the interrogation room, Pyro was thoroughly bored. Pirate-Patch came back, too, with a new batch of questions.

"I'm gonna make this as clear as possible." Pirate-Patch growled, knocking on Pyro's head.

"Hey!" He cried in protest, but when he tried to pull his arms up to protect himself, they were restrained by the 'cuffs.

Pirate-Patch glanced at a piece of paper. "We are perfectly aware of your previous and current affiliations with Erik Lenshirr, Piotr Rasputin, and Remy LeBeau, and we need to know where they are." Pirate-Patch said slowly, as if talking to a small child. Despite his threatening tone, Pyro felt relieved. Whoever 'We' was, they didn't know about Rhianna. He couldn't help but wonder whether she'd woken up yet. He refused to believe she wouldn't.

"Listen to me!" Pirate-Patch roared. Pyro stared placidly at him.

"Sorry, did you say somethin'?" He sneered. Pirate-Patch took a long, deep breath.

"The more you delay us with your immature smart-ass comments, the more trouble your friends are gonna be in when you finally spill." He growled, looking as if he had finally won.

"Terrifying. I'm so scared." Pyro said boredly. Pirate-Patch looked at him long and hard. Pyro started to fidget uncomfortably.

"You will be." He promised, before once again leaving the room and Pyro alone in the darkness. With a sigh, he laid his head upon the top of the cold, smooth desk. Where were they, anyway? Surely they couldn't have forgotten him?

And then he finally understood. The people here were probably blocking his friends from getting to him in any way, therefore making him feeling abandoned, and cause him to want revenge and give all of the information.

"Not this time." St. John Allerdyce muttered before falling asleep on the smooth, cool surface.

--

"Ugh…" I muttered, trying to stand up. It didn't work so well, seeing as I appeared to be tied down onto a chair. When I opened my eyes, I was in a dirty, but lighted, room with peeling wallpaper and stained floors. I was sitting on an uncomfortable wooden chair, wrists and ankles bound along a rope going around my waist that tied me to the back of the chair. "_Merde_." I muttered.

The ropes were pretty solidly tied, and the large, fancy knots were proof enough that I wouldn't be able to get free by myself. Along with the fact that I was hungry again, didn't exactly give me the best start-of-the-day feeling.

"So, ya finally woke up." A taunting voice was at the doorway, but I didn't bother looking up. I was caught, just like Pyro had been caught.

Wait. Maybe Pyro…?

No, that couldn't be it. I had only been brought here because I had gotten too close. Somebody had dragged Pyro all the way down here from New York. But what if they kept going? He had been in a truck; maybe they got on a boat and went somewhere else? Maybe they kept driving down through Texas and Mexico?

"_Oui_, people do dat." I sniffed, and glanced around the room once more. "D' y' mind telling _moi_ why I'm here?"

"Don' play stupid. We all know who ya are." The voice went on boredly. Definite New Orleans accent, though I still didn't want to look at my captor. It would just cause me to drown in my own shame.

"Oh, really?" I sneered, pulling slightly at the bonds. "_Je sais_ dat, too, it's why y' brought me _here_ I don' know."

"Because ya're part of da enemy group. Ya're an enemy." The voice said plainly. For the first time I looked up at him.

"Jean-Luc?!" I exclaimed in disbelief. His eyes narrowed.

"Am I really dat famous?" Jean-Luc drawled. I glared at him and Abasalom slowly faded into existence in front of me. And not Kitten-Abasalom, either, but full-sized Abasalom.

"Now untie _moi_, or I'll put 'im on your tail." I chimed, a tad triumphantly. As if on cue, Abasalom's two tails started whipping around wildly.

Jean-Luc's eyes narrowed slightly, and a man came into the room. A man who happened to be holding a huge gun.

And so the fight begun.


	19. Terms and Conditions

**I'm really sorry it took so long to update, with the holidays and mid-terms and all that stuff it's been hard to find time for the computer! Anyways, here it is. **

**I do not own anybody here except for Rhianna and all that her mind conjures. Enjoy!**

* * *

"So you're sayin' I'm an enemy, because I gots an accent. Not only that, but ya think I'm gonna try ta escape, with some fancy-schmancy hair-wieldin' powers." Pyro inquired, as if asking for clarification.

Gale scratched his head to try to cover his embarrassment. The prisoners never ever tried to talk to him; they just cower in the corner. That was their job. So why wouldn't this one shut up? "No…" He slurred uncertainly. "You said you need to stay here." Gale frowned and continued scratching his head like a monkey, certain he hadn't said that correctly.

"So, you're sayin' I said I needta be here. But I didn' say that, you just did." Pyro purred, panic and annoyance giving way for amusement.

"But… the boss…" Gale fell to the ground in anguish, sobbing. Pyro shook his head and hopped over Gale's huge, racking body. They just didn't make bodyguards like they used to.

Dashing down the hall, Pyro immediately became lost. But no surprise there, right? Left with nothing to do but wander the halls, he did the inevitable: _Wander. The. Halls._

--

Abasalom snarled at the man with the gun, jumping protectively in front of me. I would have asked him to untie me, but the thing is Abasalom took on only shape when he was out of my mind. He wasn't solid enough to cause harm or cut through anything, but of course _they_ didn't know that.

The guy with the gun almost dropped it, but Jean-Luc gave him a murderous glare. His fingers tightened around the smooth, metal trigger.

"Y' really gon' kill me, huh?" Jean-Luc's voice was horribly taunting. "I don' t'ink so. So why don' y' tell me 'ow y' know Remy." I wanted to scream at him, cuss him out, murder him, and then throw his cold, still body off of a cliff. But you know what? He was right. That was the most painful part.

I glanced at Abasalom and he obediently sat down beside me, though he was far from relaxed. I could see the stiffness in his spine, and the pure white hairs on the back of his neck were pricking up a bit.

"I work wit' 'im." I sniffed, determined to give out as little information as possible.

"Wha', did he leave y' too, and you wen' to find 'im?" Jean-Luc sneered, as if it was a familiar story.

"_Non._ A member of de group wen' missin', and I'm 'ere to find 'im. Den _vous_ came in an' ruined it." Abasalom sense my anger, and rose slowly into a crouch. But there was no need for that. Jean-Luc had gone behind the chair and untied the huge knots like it was nothing. Well, to him, it probably _was_ nothing.

"Dis didn' happen." He stated, holding out his hand.

"It neva' does." I shook it and was on my way again. But I couldn't help laughing at the look on the man-with-the-gun's face when Abasalom snarled at him on our way out.

--

Darkness. Complete and total utter darkness. Doomed to it, now. No light at the end of the tunnel, no torch glowing bright in the distance. So why was it so peaceful? It wasn't cold; it almost felt… nice. There was warmth nearby, but it seemed untouchable. Something to be enjoyed, not approached. There was a little bit of pain, yes, but not at all unbearable. It kept one alert, and conscious.

It almost felt trapped, almost felt scared, almost lonely. But not quite, and that's what counted, right? As long as you weren't trapped, scared, lonely, it was okay? Right? That's what kept one sane.

Then again, nobody had ever accused St. John Allerdyce of being sane.

--

"_Monsieur _Fury." I whispered of the man before me. He was weathered-looking, beaten-down but still triumphant. And then the pirate patch, which I thought was overdoing it a bit.

"So you're all the force they sent? Pathetic." Fury sneered. I glared at him straight in the eye (He was rather short, actually).

"_Pas_ no-one send nobody." For some reason, Fury had believed me when I showed up at the doorstep. There had been a guard (And he actually looked like a guard) in one of the restaurants, so I figured 'hey, what's the worst that could happen?' and yanked out a few memories. Directions all the way around the bayou and to a bold metal building.

This wasn't going to be easy. I had been taken for 'negotiations,' But I wasn't stupid enough to believe that Fury was just gonna hand him over. Obviously he had taken Pyro for a reason, but what? He really wasn't _that_ important. He helped fight, he helped cover things up, he did what he was told. But he wasn't at all high-up in the pecking order.

And it was hard to think, because I hated this place. The smell, the guns, the guards. I still wasn't completely sure where I was, to tell the truth. Well, I knew where location-wise, but anything beyond that was beyond me. Something called 'SHIELD.'

"Then why are you here?" He continued chewing on his toothpick.

"Is it dat hard to guess?"

"You're not gonna get the redhead back, he has vital information." Fury seemed to mentally cuss himself out for giving that away. To me at least, he didn't seem like the guy to make mistakes. Judging by the dark marks under his eyes, he was running on coffee and fumes.

"Like what? He's dumber dan-!" I broke off, trying to think of a suitable comparison. "Well, dumber dan a lotta stuff."

"Listen." Fury snarled, leaning closer. I couldn't help grimacing at the smell of his breath.. "I don't like you. I don't like him. I don't like mutants. I don't like foreigners. There's only one way that you would get any chance of seeing him again, and it's a traitor's choice. If I've learned one thing about mutants, it's that they're stubborn. So this kind guard over here will show you the door." He gestured with his hand to a gray-glad guard with a gun.

I was yanked roughly from my seat and ushered to the door. "_Arrêt!_" The guard paused, though he probably didn't know what that meant. Even though this was probably what Fury wanted, I had to grasp at any chance to see Pyro again. "Wha' kinda traitor's _affaire_?"

The smallest bit of a smile tweaked at the edge of Fury's lips, and I knew I had probably gotten myself in even deeper shit than I ever had before.

But you know what? I didn't care.

--

Noise, in clanking waves. A lock? With a key? Pyro let out a cry of surprise as blinding light filtered through the tiny room, and he cowered in the corner. He could hear a soft sound and light footsteps. Gentler than any had ever come in here.

"_Frère Jacques, frère Jacques_

_Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?_

_Sonnez les matines! Sonnez…"_

The footsteps stopped, as well as the lullaby. But a voice, uncertain and hesitant, whispered through the room. "Pyro? _Êtes-vous blessé?_" An arm wrapped around his shoulder and carefully guided him to his feet. Their procession to the door was ungraceful, but every time he stumbled or staggered, the arms would tighten around him and help him regain his balance.

"…Rhianna?" Pyro had known the only person capable of such things, but hadn't had the courage to face the facts. The only way she could be here was if they were both caught.

"_Oui?_" Her response was quiet, and slightly choked.

"Are you mad at me?" She paused, and suddenly Pyro was filled with the fear of the word 'yes.' Some part of his mind registered that they were out of the room, but he couldn't bring himself to look up at her.

"_Non_. But _you_ will be mad at _me_."


	20. Surprise, Surprise

**Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! A week passed, then another, then another… I didn't even notice the time passing by! I'm really sorry, everybody. I'll try to update all of my stories soon, I promise!**

**I do not own the Alcolytes, Fury, or X-Men. **

* * *

"You did _what??!!_" Pyro screeched. I flinched backwards; silently grateful Fury had taken away his flamethrowers

"I told y', we're working for _Monsieur _Fury now." I whispered.

"Why?! How could you do this? We were fine with Magneto!" Pyro snapped furiously.

"Do what?" I stood up fully, hissing in his face. Mad, I could understand, but this? "Save y' sorry hide? It was de only way to keep y' safe!" He glared at me and plopped down onto the beat-down sofa. Fury had basically tossed us into a side room, giving me the job of explaining all of this. Oh, joy.

"Listen," I sighed, "I knew y' wouldn' like de idea. But de only reason you joined Magneto in de first place is to blow t'ings up! Dat's what we gonna do now, just for a differen' person. What's it matter whose tellin' us to do stuff, if we got the same result?"

"What 'bout Colossus and Gambit?" He asked pointedly. I sat down next to him.

"I guess dey're our _ennemis _now. But dey are safe, too." I whispered.

"For now." Pyro argued, "But what 'bout when we get the command ta do somethin' bad to them?" I just shook my head. That was one of the things I hadn't thought out.

--

"Where are they?!" Magneto roared. Remy and Piotr exchanged glances.

"Well, Pyro disappeared, as y' know, an' Rhi' wen' after 'im, and dey haven' come back." Remy said stiffly. It had been four days already. Normally that wouldn't be enough time to cause a panic, but _Rhianna _and_ Pyro_. They were both crazy and liked blowing up stuff, so why weren't they back yet? It doesn't take that long to make a couple things shoot skyward, and if they had toppled something huge, it would've been on the news.

"Why did you let her go? Because of _you two,_" -Remy didn't like the pointed look Magneto gave him-, "We are defenseless against all attack!" Remy and Piotr stayed silent, almost afraid of saying something. "Just… leave me be." Magneto sighed, waving them away with his hand. They wasted no time in fleeing the room.

"_Mon Dieu_, he's so moody, ya'd think he's pregnant." Remy muttered sourly to Piotr, who just nodded silently. Something had to be done, and soon.

--

"Rhianna?"

"_Oui?_"

"Do you think this 'Fury' guy is just gonna use us as bait to get Magneto and 'em?" Pyro's eyes were filled with worry, and… knowledge. Geez, that's wasn't something you see on him every day.

"What do y' know and why didn' y' tell me?" I groaned, repeatedly hitting my head against the wall. We, the geniuses we were, failed to realize that Fury locked the door on his way out. And I'm not talking about some wooden school-door, _non_, this thing was solid steel and at least three inches thick.

Ignoring my tone, Pyro murmured, "When I first got here, they were askin' about the 'wherabouts' and such about Magneto an' Colossus an' Gambit. I think I was just bein' used as bait. By myself, I wasn't that important. But now they got two out of five, which aren't very good odds."

I opened my mouth to argue, but then something occurred to me. Something I should've thought of the moment Fury locked the door, the moment I saw that cold, heartless look in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, I summoned a very special white-furred, red-eyes cat. I heard a small _meow_ and opened my eyes to his lean, furry shape.

"_Abasalom? Je veux que vous recherchiez des appareils-photo de sécurité._" (I want you to look for security cameras.) He nodded dutifully and clawed easily up the walls to search the ceiling. Pyro watched in confusion as his lithe body twisted around above the ceiling fan and under the sofa, along the edges of the walls, and most especially in the darkest corners of the room.

"Meow! Rreaoww!" Abasalom screeched, clawing at the bottom of the small table in front of the couch.. He was unable to claw off the thing that was bothering him under there, so I quietly knelt down to my knees and felt around. My fingers closed around something small and boxy.

"_Merci, mon chaton._" I murmured and Abasalom disappeared, purring. I held it up to the light so Pyro could see. "'S a listenin' t'ing. He took it in his hand, examining it closely. He held it up to the light, twisted it around in his fingers, and rapped it gently against the table-top.

"My amazing search reveals… nothing." He said finally after a solid five minutes of toying with it. I sighed and took it back, trying to think of a plan. Hmm… maybe, if this Fury guy had been all around the world, he knew french…

"_Votre mère ne t'a-t-elle pas enseigné que l'écoute dedans sur des conversations était grossière ? Vous devriez avoir honte de vous-même, Monsieur Fury._" I sneered into the tiny microphone. There was a moment of silence.

"Um… what did you just say?" Pyro asked uncertainly. I just grinned, and less than five seconds later somebody was pounding loudly on the door.

"_Oui_, _Monseiur_ Fury?" I chimed.

"Leave my mother out of this!" He snarled in response. Pyro gave me a look of solid disbelief as there was a fumbling key sound to be heard, and the door flew open. Fury's unfriendly eyes locked on me, but I held his glare easily. Silence stretched out between us.

"Uh…" Pyro started, probably to break the tension, "What exactly are you gonna have us do?" With some relief on his face, Fury's eyes turned toward Pyro instead. I could hold a gaze, yes, but I didn't want to look into those cold, dead eyes.

"Be in the Central Command Center in five minutes; you'll be briefed and sent off on your first mission." He growled, his voice almost a snarl. He was bearing resemblance to Wolverine, to be honest.

"Central Command Center? Is not dat extremely redundant?" I purred, and Fury stormed out of the room in frustration. I turned to Pyro, "I don't wanna go on a mission. I'm sleepy." I yawned to emphasize my point, and he sighed.

"We'd better still go." For the first time since I'd known him, the grand Allerdyce sounded completely defeated. He helped me to my feet, and we went in search of this 'Central Command Center' thing, because Fury had ever-so-thoughtfully forgotten to inform us where it was.

After a good half an hour of wandering, we found the Central Command Center. I'll be nice and not go through the lecturin' we got, but I gotta say, it was worse than school! So yeah, here's the summary:

"You need to follow direct yada yada yada, because when you go on your first mission blah blah blah are going to die if you let one things slip (ooh, scary) yawn boredom sleepiness roar You two will go to the something or other, attack scream rampage cause havoc (Insert Pyro happy-dance) and disrupt general population ahh help run adequate distraction for robo-losers. ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION TO ME?"

That about sums it up. Just like high school. Fury started rubbing his temples, as if suddenly caught with a headache. I rolled my eyes and chimed, "Does de _bébé_ want his mommy back?" He glared at me. Pyro smiled strangely, and not for the first time I wished I could read that over-crazed mind of his. Not like I was one to talk, of course.

"Just…" His teeth were clenched visibly, and I could tell he was trying not to attack us (or give the order to attack us, either way). "Go to New York. Rid us of the X-Men. Leave. Now." I jumped as I realized he wasn't kidding, and ran toward the door, dragging Pyro behind me. I just had time to give him a mock salute before closing it behind me.

We had a personal jet waiting for us in the bay, and instantly I had the strangest urge to catch it on fire. Well, make it look like it was on fire. Close enough for government work (Wait, is SHIELD part of the government?!)

Yes, the plane flight was extremely boring, though not quite as bad as the lecture hall and silent study back at the base. Though I will say, the jet chairs are extremely comfortable, and perfect for taking naps on. I was perfectly content, until…

"You have to wear these." An official-looking woman came out of one of the back rooms (This jet was so huge, it had _rooms!_), holding two black jumpsuits.

"_Excuse me?_" I exclaimed sharply, glaring at her and the suits. Yeah, the X-Men and Alcolytes may romp around wearing those things, but I certainly wasn't!

"Ma'am, it was a direct order from Mr. Fury." She held them out, as if she expected me to respond like some kind of trained animal. I _ever so politely_ told her where _Monsieur_ Fury could shove his direct orders.

Her face turned bright red and with a huff, she stomped away. The second she was gone, I broke down laughing. I felt tears streaming down my eyes from my fits of hilarity, and I was literally rolling around on the floor. Pyro walked in, glanced at me, smiled, and walked out again. When I finally calmed down from my hysterics (Whenever I saw her in one of the hallways, I would burst out with laughter again), we were landing in New York.

"Suit lady, three o' clock." Pyro whispered, giggling, as he walked past me. I glanced up and, sure enough, she was standing there to my right.

"Yes?" I sneered, glaring at her. Her face flushed pink again with obvious embarrassment.

"I spoke to Mr. Fury, and he said…" She paused for a moment, flustered, before composing herself again, "He said you may be more content with this." She held out another suit in her hands, and before I could look properly at it, she was gone. Smiling smugly, I unrolled the suit and my breath hitched in my throat. My smile disappeared. It was _amazing_. The color itself was simple, a soft, deep purple. But when it moved, a million different shades of amethyst would flash across the suit. It shone, but at the same time let out on light. The fabric sparkled, flashed, and flitted right across my vision. So many different shades of purple, yet they all seemed to blend together perfectly.

"Thought you might like it." A familiar voice drawled behind me. I twisted around, staring incredulously at the redhead.

"_You_ suggested this?" Pyro shrugged, a smile creeping onto his face.

"Happy birthday, Surreal." He kissed me on the forehead and exited the room in a fluid motion. I just stared dumbly after him, until his words slowly registered. _Birthday?_ I glanced at the electronic calendar on the wall and sure enough, it said _September 7_. I smiled, figuring he must've picked it up during one his trips into my mind. Smiling, I hugged the fabric close to my chest.


	21. Leap of faith, loss of sanity

_**IMPORTANT! **_**Okay, I was recently reading through Surreal Sights, and I realized how… crappy… the first however many chapters are. So instead of updating new chapters, I'm going to be editing and fixing old ones. Don't worry, it'll be the same story line! You know, it takes 27 dramatic incidents to change a first impression? I don't have that many chapters! So yeah, enjoy.**

**I do not own anybody except for Rhianna/Surreal.**

* * *

"Are you clear on your mission?" Fury barked roughly.

"What mission?" I sniffed. At his glare, I added quickly, "_Oui_, disrupt general _population_, cause havoc, and lure X-Men out of deir 'iding places."

We were shuffled down to the part of the plane that goes down in that flappy thing, when something else occurred to me. We were about 30 thousand feet off of the ground, and already directly above New York. Which means the only way down was… down.

Two bulky guards gave Pyro and I parachute, and Fury re-appeared a little while later. The second I saw him I burst out, "Are you _crazy?!_ You're trying to kill us!"

He wagged his finger as if talking to a disobedient child. "No, if you die it will be an 'unfortunate accident.' Your life is in the hands of nothing but you and that parachute, so it's not my fault if it… slips." He grinned evilly, and I stuck my tongue out at him. "We're going to give you full instructions and if you were wise, you'd listen closely." I frowned at his wording. "These ones are partially automatic, so if you pass out or are too confused to deploy it, you might not die. First thing, toss out the drogue chute, and lucky for you these are simple parachutes and the backpack will do the rest. The drogue chute will be flying for a while; the pressure will pull the bridle out and then the full parachute." He handed us two things that looked like giant watches. "These measure your altitude, and you should get your parachute out by 5000 feet. Enjoy."

As he walked off I screeched, "Dat's it? Somebody should sue you!" I was pointedly ignored. We were moved _again_ (I was starting to feel like a dog on a leash), and I was trying desperately to remember everything in that _oh-so-detailed_ briefing.

I thought they were going to toss out of the flappy thing, but instead they took us to a tiny room on the right side of the jet. Some more personnel (How many people do you need on one plane?!) started hooking us up to all kinds of gear, and I was being reminded of the one time my father had taken me rock climbing. I jumped in surprise as I was hooked up to Pyro, and a stupid grin appeared on his face.

"Birthday present or not, if you say _anything_, I will kill you." I grumbled pointedly. He shrugged, and a guard opened the hatch.

"_Trois, deux, un… zéro._" And we jumped.

This definitely wasn't like the movies, where the skydivers leap gracefully out of the plane. The moment we were out of the latch, still air yanked us backwards as the jet flew forwards. For a second or two we were falling upside-down before, I twisted over. Not my best idea, as we now had a clear view of the intimidatingly solid ground below. I could feel the air jamming my skin backwards, and I had the strangest thought of how funny we probably looked.

It wasn't a bad feeling, exactly. The ground wasn't 'rushing up to meet us,' in fact for a while, it didn't seem to be getting any closer. I glanced up at Pyro and burst out laughing at his face. His jaw was clenched and he looked a bit like he was about to be sick, along with the fact that his cheeks were being jammed backwards by the force, made for quite a comical expression. I briefly wondered if throw-up flew upwards when you were falling this fast, but quickly dismissed the idea. Not something you'd want to focus on while plummeting to your death. The drogue chute felt like it was getting tighter, and I saw two thick nylon straps snap out and reach for the sky. Another couple of things unfolded in a complicated way, and we were jerked violently upwards. A few minutes of floating brought us much closer to the ground.

"Never… again." Pyro wheezed. I chuckled. To my surprise, it was kind of fun. Remembering the strange joyous, insane feeling I had had when we had blown up the cargo bay, I wondered if Acolyte life was turning me into an adrenaline junky.

We touched down ungracefully in a park, Pyro landing on his feet and me sort of dragging along. I was sure millions of landing had been done better than that. It was starting to get dark and I hoped no one had seen us, but you'd have to be pretty blind to miss something like that. I had never any reason to pay attention to skydiving laws, but I was pretty sure that parachuting into a park was illegal.

It took a good twenty minutes for us to detach ourselves from the straps and each other, after which Pyro fell onto the ground crying, "Land, sweet, sweet land!" I felt a bit shaky, but otherwise unharmed. Under different circumstances, I had no doubt I'd be quick to do it again.

I sighed as my stomach went back down to its rightful place and my brain stopped bouncing around in side my skull before I glanced over again at Pyro, who was proceeding to hug a tree.

"What do y' t'ink will bring them X-Men over here?" He was back on the ground now.

"Can't go back to the cargo bay." He muttered through the grass. Rolling my eyes, I dragged him off of the ground and into a mostly-upright position.

"Okay," I sighed, plopping down next to him. "Obviously we need somet'in' big. I t'ink _Monsieur_ Fury wants to bring all of the X-Men down where he wants dem."

"Dunno, but I don't think those blokes are gonna fall for the fire again." Pyro no longer had a greenish tinge to his skin, and he managed a weak smile.

"Okay, so no trademarks for you. What about… robbery?"

"Nah, they'll only send a few for that."

We glanced at each other the same time, and I sighed. "Terrorist threat?"

"Terrorist threat." He agreed.


	22. Daddy

**Y'all had a bunch of really nice comments and stuff, and I didn't realize so many people were actually reading this, so I decided I might as well just go on with Surreal Sights. Anyway, this is the BIG CHAPTER! Where almost everything in this story actually starts to make sense! Woo! Yeah, I'm gonna shut up now…**

**I don't own any ****people**** in this except for Rhianna.**

* * *

"I don' believe I'm doin' dis." I muttered sourly. Pyro shrugged, and we both looked up at an airplane as it flew past. It was so close that I could see the turbines spinning as it desperately hoisted itself up. Looking back at the airport I stared miserably at the huge letters, which spelled out _John F. Kennedy National Airport_.

"Pyro?" He glanced up from checking his pockets, probably looking for a lighter. "Dis is where I first came back to America," I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, "I ran from California, from _him_, actually, and I still hate _mon père_, but dat doesn't stop me from missing him."

Pyro smiled understandingly. "Do y' eva wanna go back to Australia?" I asked him, drying my eyes and preparing myself to do the most daring, stupid I've ever done. And I've done plenty of daring, stupid things.

He smiled. "All the time. But I'm not sure if they've forgiven me for catching half of the city on fire yet." We took simultaneous deep breaths and stepped into the airport.

At first it went pretty ordinarily, checking luggage (Not that we had much, we weren't going to get very far), metal detectors, things like that. The plan itself was simple; the execution, not so simple.

"Think of it like this," Pyro said softly while we were waiting to load, "This is all a huge game. The whole point of the game is to see who can take over the plane faster and not get caught by the clowns in jumpsuits."

"Y're one to talk." I whispered, referring to the jumpsuit under his clothes, and he made a face. Thinking of it as a game didn't make me feel any less sorry for the passengers who just happened to be on the right plane at the wrong time. But we were counting on them to _not_ play superhero.

Once we were on the plane I watched the ground get farther and farther away with a sinking feeling in my gut, and Pyro offered a weak smile. The problem was, it was obvious to see he didn't want to do this, either. The seatbelt light flicked off as the plane steadied out, so I stood up and began to walk make my way to the front of the plane. Nobody spared me a second glance, probably assuming I was going to the bathroom.

When I walked past the bathroom and the first-class seats, a stewardess stopped me in the hallway and said softly, "Ma'am, the coach bathroom is back there." She gestured behind me.

"I know." I threw an illusion around us, making it look (to the first-class passengers) like I walked over to the bathroom and the stewardess walked to the front again. In reality, I slammed _cauchemar_ into her head and she fell back, writhing in pain. Nothing could amount to the horrible regret I felt while stuffing her into one of the side closets.

I went around a corner, out of sight from the passengers, and let the illusion fall. I silently thanked _Monsieur Nuit _for the illusion while trying to summon the courage to go forward. The curtain that separated the cockpit from the passengers' seating flapped ominously in front of me and, taking a deep breath, I walked into the tiny room.

--

Pyro walked up and down the aisle, trying to find the SHIELD representative. Fury had said there would be one to fly the freakin' plane! Panicked, he started back down the aisle again, and some of the passengers were giving him sour looks for distracting them from the TV sets. Muttering about 'stupid blokes' under his breath, he turned around and started up the aisle. Near the front, somebody stuck their foot out, almost tripping him. Pyro whipped around, ready to curse him to the lowest of fire gods, before he saw the serious face and recognized the emblem on the man's jacket.

The man jerked his head to the front, signaling for Pyro to move, and as he walked toward the front, Pyro followed. They quickly snuck behind the curtain, greeted by Rhianna's sullen face. Pyro tried not to look at the pilot and co-pilot, who were in a carefully placed pile in the corner.

--

I grimaced at the SHIELD man, but moved out of his way. He was the only person in the trio who knew how to fly a plane. He started giving commands in the mic, almost too quickly for me to hear. Also, he was wildly pressing and pulling levers and suck. I heard a _ding_ sound, and assumed he turned the seatbelt light on.

Pyro and I sat down on the floor, and not five minutes later, the representative guy said, "We've got company."

I glanced out the window and immediately realized two things. A: We were flying dangerously low, and B: The familiar-looking jet trailing behind us.

"Eh… _Monsieur?_" The representative glanced at me briefly to show he was listening. "Why did Fury wan' us to lure the X's in de first place?"

The man hesitated for a moment before saying, "A trade."

I connected the pieces a moment too late, jumped up a moment too late, whipped around a moment too late. Maybe if I hadn't been so naïve, maybe if I hadn't tried to rescue Pyro, maybe this wouldn't have happened. But both he and I were pinned to the ground with collars snapped around our necks, wrists and ankles tied, hopes of escaping lost.

Very funny how quickly the tables can turn when you're a freak, no?

--

I wasn't sure when we had been knocked out, but when my eyes opened, it was dark. Very dark. Too dark. I tried to dig into my mind and find Abasalom, but he wasn't there. I dug in deeper, for the Gypsies, or my diamond palace, but a horrible stabbing pain ripped through my skull, and I fell to the ground in tears. There was no getting out of this one.

I spent the next hours (Or at least I presumed they were hours) trying to figure out why Fury even bothered. His original plan had been to capture all of the Acolytes by using Pyro as a lure, but instead he got me. But if he had really been trying to catch the Acolytes, why would he make us do something that would drag in the X-Men? It didn't make sense. And what could he possibly trade Pyro and I for with the X-Men, anyways? We weren't part of their team! Plus, they might still be mad about me stealing their jet, which Fury stole from me.

Then I passed time banging my head against the wall and glaring sourly at the ceiling, imaging Fury's face was there. Abasalom didn't sit next to me; Ariel wasn't purring and rubbing her face against my shirt. Diamond and Obsidian weren't offering some strange, useless advice that would probably come in handy later. Amethyst wasn't comforting me, Ruby wasn't running in circles and trying to attract attention. For the first time I realized how 'normal' people felt. No wonder they were so mean, so detached.

They were just lonely.

With a sigh, I closed my eyes and attempted to find myself in this twisted, cruel, estranged, destructing pothole of a world. It would take a while.

--

"Hey, watch the suit!" Pyro snapped as he was dragged down a hallway. These idiots were getting dirt smeared all over it! They dropped him in the center of a room, face up. He tried to close his eyes to block out the bright lights, but he could see them through his eyelids. Once again he brought up the 'stupid blokes' issue.

Pyro let out a noise of surprise as he was slowly lifted off of the ground. He scrabbled violently, but metal rings hooked around his wrists and ankles, pinning him to a chair. Pyro scowled: was this some kind of fancy interrogation room?

Two men walked forward smoothly, steps in sync and faces blank. They parted, revealing a much smaller man with dominant gray streaks in his hair and thin, shaking arms.

"G'day, mate." Pyro started sarcastically, "Come for a cup'a tea?" The two identical men (presumably guards) didn't even twitch a smile, but the smaller one chuckled.

"Do you know who I am?" Pyro squinted slightly. Now that he mentioned it, the guy _did _look rather familiar. Like… from a dream.

Or from Rhianna's reality.

--

A door opened near me and someone picked me up from the floor. I was carried wedding-style down a hallway. Right, left, left, right, right, left… I tried to remember the turns, but quickly gave up.

"Royal treatment, eh?" I sniffed, but the guy's face remained blank. What was with these people?

We stopped in front of a door, and I was dropped onto my own feet. The ankle cuffs were cut, and the door slid open. "I get to walk on my own feet, eh?" I muttered before looking into the room.

I briefly glanced over Pyro, but it was a small, gray-haired figure that caught my attention. He smiled, but my face hardened. His face was the one that formed in the thunder clouds and his voice was the one that whispered ominously through the trees. His hands were the ones that held my delicate orb of life. His mouth that twisted into that malicious smile, eager to destroy everything I had created.

"My, my, _père_, you've gotten gray in the past year."

"That's what happens when a man's out lookin' for his little girl." He responded, looking up hopefully.

"You're still not'ing more than _un rat_ t' me," I spat, glaring at him. "Zhe scum at zhe bottom of the fish tank, not even to wort'y enough t' be cleaned by Siamese Algae Eaters." I delighted in his pain, but it wasn't pain that showed up on his face.

"I'm sorry to hear that." But the words didn't match the face; that face was twisted into a cruel, horrible smile. And that's when I lost everything.

"No!" I screeched as Ariel and Abasalom hurled themselves at him, roaring. Tears rolled out of my eyes as Diamond and Obsidian's warning came to me:

"They're coming."

"He's coming."

"All will be torn apart."

"In panic."

"Destroyed."

"Keep a close eye on your friends. Some will escape with the destruction of others."

Christopher waved his hand and the brave, valiant lions disappeared. More and more creatures hurled from my mind, only to fall at the hands of this- this… monster.

Pyro was in shock at what was going on, and for the first time, that cocky grin wasn't plastered to his face. His expression was one of pure terror.

The Gypsies landed delicately on their feet around me, standing in a defensive circle. Amethyst was glaring whole-heartedly at Christopher. Amethyst, Sapphire, Garnet, Emerald, and Amber had come to help. Even Diamond and Obsidian had showed, curled up in a corner with knowing looks on their faces. Obsidian made a small hissing noise, and I realized that they were scared, too. They knew what was going to happen, but that just gave them the chance to dread it even more.

I looked around at this desperate, hopeless situation. Pyro was struggling violently, finally realizing the apparent danger. Christopher was standing there with his arms crossed, waiting. The Gypsies of Gems stood their ground, occasionally shifting and shooting each other uncertain glances. Amethyst was the only one who stood strong and unwavering. But Christopher- Christopher!

That was it! _He_ was the mutant! _He_ was the part of my family I got this from! I couldn't realize my own stupidity… and our mutations were opposites. I created life, and he cast it away.

"Daddy?" I said in an inquiring, sweet tone. I hid the French accent, to show I had 'given up.'

He looked up hopefully and chimed, "Yes, sweetheart?"

"_Au revoir, celui qui a été une fois aimé._" (Goodbye, one who was once loved.) "I hate you." For the first time since I had regained control, I could feel the beasts pounding against the walls of my mind, begging to be let free…

I gave Pyro a miserable, apologetic glance. He nodded and braced himself.

And, for the first time with good intentions and reason in my heart…

I set them free.


	23. A New End

**Hello everybody! What do you know, I haven't died after all! I don't even know if anybody that I know still does anymore… well, doesn't kill me to start from scratch, it's been so long. Well, I read through this for the first time in a long time and was not happy with how I used to write… I'm going to go through the first chapters, at least, and fix things up. **

**I apologize ahead of time for the gruesomeness of this chapter, but it needed to be done to wrap up a whole bunch of points I left loose in the story that I had forgotten about. It's not done yet, but I need a new angle to continue by. I have an idea, but a rough one, and as always reviews and criticisms are welcome.**

**I do not own X-Men: Evolution or anything that has to do with it**

I needed to go through the pain, to fight through it. Falling now would be… deadly. Worse than deadly. Well, no, maybe not quite. Deadly causes death, and what's worse than death? Well, besides living. Or maybe believing that one is dead. Like in dreams… or nightmares. And what about when one believes that their loved one is dead? Not just a mention or a thought, but an all-out belief? Is that worse than death? Maybe if the loved one was that person's only reason for living…

No.

_Concentrate, concentrate, ignore the pain, you can do it_. I could feel the needles going down my back and the fire down my front. They were all… free. But they were disappearing. I frowned, and then screamed. Screamed with them, my creations, as their bodies were torn apart and ripped to pieces, dissolving as their invisible blood leaked onto the floor by the power that had created me. Even with all of my strength, all of my ability, all of my new-found control… it was useless.

Very, very slowly, my eyes opened. Tears welled up quicker than they could be blinked back, and the rolled down to the floor. Abasalom's once-strong white body looked frail in death, curled up like the little kitten that I had once known him to be. But he wasn't sleeping, wasn't taking a nap. No breath filled his huge lungs to make his chest rise and fall. He was dead. And there was nothing else to it. So why did it hurt so much?

I tried to detach my emotions, at least be strong for the moment, but I couldn't. I was lying on the hard, dirty floor at the mercy of the one person I hated- the one person that could hurt me so much. I slowly sat up, hesitant to see the rest of the destruction that I had caused, but knowing that I needed to. The sight just brought more tears to my eyes as I saw all of the rest of my fallen soldiers, fallen without cause. While slowly taking it in, I heard the sound of another weeping behind me. The hollow, mourning sound of a survivor. Her voice called out my name softly, then again, even more softly. The weakening power of death.

I didn't want to turn around, didn't want to face her… but I did. I crawled over to the side of the last Gypsy, Diamond, as she knelt over his dark, fallen sister Obsidian. Surrounded by the bodies of her own people. A memory surfaced, from long ago, of a wicked man holding an orb in his hands, my life, threatening to crush it. But it had felt so real…

"You tried to warn me, from the very beginning." Sparkling eyes, wet with tears, met mine. They held no anger, no shame.

"We already know what would happen. We warned because it was our duty." I tried to wrap my arm around her but she flinched and backed away. Only then did I notice the deep gash in her side. Though there was no blood, I could feel the energy spilling out of her with every breath and how with every movement of her chest sank closer and closer to the ground where her sister lay.

Diamond let out a deep sigh, reaching up with one of her shaking arms to pull my hand out. The last tear fell from her eye, into my hand. Sighing again, she laid her head on top of her sister's stomach and closed her eyes, as if listening for the pulse that was there not-so-long ago.

I opened my hand and looked at the tear, hardened now into a drop-shaped diamond. I looked at her in pain, but she gave a soft, peaceful smile.

"You will always carry the pain with you, but please… learn to forgive yourself. Don't hide from who you are." She closed her eyes and her breath stopped. She was no more. I looked up and saw no human presence in the room. Christopher was gone… and so was Pyro. Did I hurt them? Suddenly the weight of the day fell onto my shoulders and I wanted nothing more than to just fall into the diamond palace, but…

_Don't hide from who you are_. With a deep breath I heaved myself off of the floor, pausing at every one of my fallen warriors for apologies and tears.

Amethyst, so quiet and comforting.

Abasalom, protective and strong.

Ariel, challenging and powerful.

Diamond and Obsidian, living with their pain of knowledge, forbidden to tell or to change.

The guards. I just shook my head. They had no idea what they had gotten into. A thought occurred to me, something the Professor had said a long time ago. Something about how my power wouldn't be able to kill… Well, obviously he wasn't right. He either lied, didn't know the truth, or my powers had grown since.

All was gone. But maybe not all. Christopher and Pyro… were still out there somewhere. With difficulty I turned my back on the battle scene behind me, pulling on my logical head. Christopher knew about Pyro, so he probably took him for leverage. And what did he want? Forgiveness? That, I couldn't give. But something was off about him… And why bother with S.H.I.E.L.D. and the X-Men? I hadn't been involved in anything for a while, so something must have changed. The whole world must have changed. And I missed it.

But it was the S.H.I.E.L.D. operative that took us down. Christopher must have already had a deal with them, before anything else even started. To bring us. The mission and hi-jacking was probably just a ploy to make us unsuspecting. The sky-diving was just so he would have an excuse to push us off of a plane, because we ended up in another plane anyways. But why bring the X-Men? Unless…

I shook my head, frowning at my own stupidity. S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted the X-Men, or some of them, and had me and Pyro. Had they taken him on purpose because they knew he'd be easier to catch than me, and that I would come. Had they known that I would be willing to make a deal, any deal to stay with him? The X-Men just wanted to fend away harm, and would follow any supposed terrorism attack. Christopher wanted Pyro and me, so he must have had some card to play in getting the X-Men to respond so quickly to the "attack". For the big guys in charge, a win-win situation.

But, if it was true, none of that explained where they were now? Surely Christopher would have stayed, even if he kept Pyro out of sight. If it had been something of my doing, wouldn't their… bodies… be here?

I shook my head. Nothing made sense anymore. That message that I had had to give to the Professor, my little spot to see the moon on top of a couple of crates, the confusion in the School of Mutant Freaks. I tall seemed so long ago, unimportant. Even the thing with Mesmero. I wondered briefly if that had amounted to anything, after all. I froze as I heard footsteps behind me, and a cold, familiar voice rang out.

"You're stronger than I would've suspected," he said, in a normal tone. Too normal. To me, it was cruel and mocking. Tears came, unbidden, but from anger this time and not sadness.

"You ruined everything. What do you want? Do you really hate me that badly?" I spat, glaring at him.

"Of course not, honey. Your mother and I love you very much." My glared turned confused, unable to tell if he was taunting me or not. "After all, how could we be more proud? You always try your absolute hardest and now that we're together again, we can go to France, rebuy that house… we could to go the park, too, if you like. Now that you don't have anything holding you back," he gestured around to the massacre, "You should be able to come home, no problem."

The confused stare went to a gape, unable to comprehend what he was saying. All of this… was too much for one day. Was he crazy? Did he finally lose it? I remembered the box he had left in the old house, with the picture of our family (When it still _was _a family), the children's book, and the letter that I had never read.

"Christopher," my tone turned hard, "Mom is dead. She has been dead for a long time. You're insane and you've just…" Tears started pouring down my cheeks, and my grip tightened around the diamond drop in my hand. _Learn to forgive yourself. Don't hide from who you are_. Diamond's last words echoed and reverberated in my brain, over and over again.

Who _was _I? More like what. I was a monster, a mutant, a freak. Only causing damage to everything and everyone along the way, nothing more. That was who I was. And it all came back to… I couldn't even get myself to lay hatred on this confused old man as I had done all of those years before. He was crazy, and he was a mutant. He didn't understand what was going on around him. But still…

I had lived in fear all of those years because of _him._ I laughed bitterly. I couldn't believe that I was only nineteen. I should be in a college, getting drunk illegally and going wild at parties. I glanced down at the purple, shining suit that I still wore. The best birthday present ever, probably. It was the only one that I could even remember. From a man that meant no real harm and just wanted to have fun.

But all the fear and pain and suffering, all of it, always came back to dear old Dad. The anger flared up again, and I could hear a choking noise coming from the gray-haired man as a deadly power from the blankness inside of me grabbed him by the throat. I didn't know how long it held him, but when it let go another lifeless body slumped to the ground to join the others. He lay with the loved, but he was hated. I remembered one thing in particular that he had said. _Now that you don't have anything holding you back, You should be able to come home, no problem_. That was it, then. Nothing left but pain and suffering. Nothing to live for, but unable to die. I couldn't really believe… a smiling face with bright red hair popped into my mind's eye. Dead? It was impossible… but still. There was no other explanation. The demon inside of my head purred, encouraged by my dark thoughts. Who knew what I could do? But I couldn't stay there. I shoved the diamond tear in my pocket and wiped my face with my sleeve.

And just like every other hard time in my life, all I could do was walk away.


	24. A Spark of Hope

**I personally want to thank Vickie1996 for reminding me that there are still people reading this story, and that I should keep up with it Between summer school, work, and preparing for band camp I really didn't give it much thought, so bear with me- I WILL finish this story, it just may take a while. If I go a while without updating again, yell at me or something with an inbox message XD I won't mind.**

I stood and stared at the overwhelming gate looming before me. Maybe to someone, they spoke of relief. Peace. Solstace. Refuge. Freedom.

But to me, they screamed torture.

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The rolling plains appeared to have once been beautiful- gentle hills sloping up and down for endless miles in every direction. But all sign of foliage that may have been there was gone-no grass, no trees. No animals wandered these barren plains, which had been cruelly raped by time and neglect. No plant dare spread its roots in this sterile ground, no bird dare take wing in this poisonous sky, no creature or man dare tread on this infinite, fatal expanse of barren wasteland.

But here, there is also a sense of something alive- not a visible creature or form, but an eerie presence that stalks you as you make your way, the lone beating heart in a chorus of nothingness.

This is where the darkness resides.

Now, this is my destination every time that I close my eyes.

I reach out to touch the ash-colored cloud that comes so close as to almost touch my flesh, but doesn't quite dare. The fog urgently moves out of the way to make space for my pale, trembling hand, but after it drops back to my side the darkness slowly, almost languidly, returns to its original place.

I fall to my knees in a sudden explosion of frustration and fury, screaming, "_Qui es-tu ? Tu veux quoi ?_" (Who are you? What do you want?)

No answer was given.

A tornado of light collapsed from the sky and fell around me to bring my butchered mind back to consciousness, but as my eyes fluttered open with the first rays of sunlight dancing through the ratty old window above me, one word escaped my lips: _Cerebro._

And suddenly, I had a direction.

I had to find him.

No matter what.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It's been four days since I last saw Pyro and my… I couldn't even bring myself to think about that monster. Assuming Pyro was still alive (I didn't want to think of the other option), time was of the essence. The average human can last maybe 6 or 7 days without water, though food wasn't a concern, and I had already let four days pass lying under an alleyway crate in a fetal position. If he was given some kind of rations, however small, it would increase my operating time greatly, but I had no idea of knowing… In reality, when do I ever truly know anything? When does anyone?

As it ends up, we had been taken to… his… underground operating base hidden below the peaceful city of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. From there, it was only an illegal box train ride to New York, more specifically Bayville.

And that's how I ended here, staring at the castle-like gates before a strange-but-familiar picturesque mansion with well-trimmed lawn and water features- no doubt armed with dozens of weapons, traps, and bombs.

Which brings me to my next quandary- break in, or call in? Though I wasn't particularly looking forward to avoiding weapons of mass destruction in The Xavier Institute for Gifted Children's front yard, somehow just ringing the doorbell seemed much more intimidating.

After all I had done to them… would they just shoot me on sight?

I stared at the small white button for a little while, and then in a sudden rush of bravery I pushed my left index finger through the air and slammed down on the bell.

I don't know what I had been expecting- a mine to explode under my feet, a gun to pop out of the side of the gate and shoot me, no questions asked?

But no- the intercom came on and for a few moments there was only static.

A gentle, soothing male voice came up over the fuzz.

"I was wondering when you would be coming back."

And that was it. The gate was opened and I started walking, feeling like I was in a daze. I made it halfway across the yard before the Professeur started rolling out to greet me. Though this scene seemed calm from an outsider's eye, the tension was crackling in the air and I could see several eyes peeking out from the front windows to watch the action that seemed inevitable.

We both stopped at the exact same time, no signal, no warning. And we looked at each other. He seemed calm, pensive, but not manipulative. His chin was resting thoughtful over his clasped hands, his brows furrowed in thought. I shifted uncomfortably and suddenly became aware of my own appearance- I hadn't looked in a mirror recently, but I could feel the layers of oil and dirt on my face from sleeping in the alley, my hair was tangled and oily, my clothe- at best- filthy.

"_Professeur_," I broke the uneasy silence, "I know zhat allowing me near _votre famille _is very dangerous." I looked up at him, and he nodded for me to continue. "But… but I need 'elp. It is a matter of life and death. Even if I mean nozhing to you, _Monsieur_, 'ave pity on a poor man zhat I may 'ave killed." I fought the tears back from my eyes, refusing to appear weak on top of my pathetic physical state. "I need 'elp," I repeated, softly. "_S'il vous plait._" It came out like more of a plea than the offer I had wanted, but I was desperate.

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I waited anxiously outside of the Professeur's office, but I could hear every word said- or, in many cases, shouted. The Professeur, the Wolverine, and a few others were arguing it out inside about helping me. Some were even against the Professeur having let me in the mansion in the first place- I 'was a threat,' a 'monster,' and 'a bad influence a best- at worst, a danger to myself and all those around me.'

Eventually, after the flaming-hot coals of their fiery angry died down a bit, I was called into the room.

"Tell me somethin', girl," the words of the Wolverine, or Logan as I had heard him called familiarly, broke the silence. "Let's say that this mission goes off fine-and-dandy and we rescue your friend without _losing lives_. What do you plan to do then?"

All eyes turned to me, and I could tell that this had been a question on everyone's mind. "Well… I…" I swallowed hard and looked up at them with defiant, determined eyes. "I would go wizh Pyro to join Magneto and zhe Acolytes. All forced ties zhat I 'ad _avec_ Fury _et_ S.H.I.E.L.D.-" I noticed the Logan flinched "-are severed following _la mort de mon père_." (the death of my father) I didn't realize it until much later, but that was the first time that I openly mentioned to anyone something about that last, horrible day. "I don' wanna join the X-Men and never did. I just want things to return to how zhey were before… before all zhis."

Though it was clear none of them liked me, they seemed to be touched by my blunt honesty. Or at least, scrape up a tiny bit of respect for me. A few glances were exchanged, and they seemed to come to a silent mutual agreement. Then again, it may not have been so silent- the Professeur was capable of easily communicating with them telepathically.

"Are we agreed?" The Professeur's statement confirmed my suspicion, and though a few seemed a bit disgruntled- particularly the Rogue and a tall mutant with red sunglasses- but they nodded grudgingly.

"Then it's settled," The Professeur continued, "We will use Cerebro to help you find Pyro, seeing as he is still part of our mutant family and may be holding information valuable to his captors. But there's a condition." All the other faces jerked up, alarmed from staring at the floor or their owner's shoes. Clearly they had not been consulted about this 'condition.' "Whether we find him or not, I want you to come and visit me on a weekly basis from now on. Your powers have mutated once more, and for the sake of all present here and in the rest of the world, they need to be re-observed. You _can_ defeat this, Rhianna. Your mutation is a part of you, yes, and an important part- but you can't let it control you. _Don't hide from who you are." _Nods of approval for containing this beast- me- circled around the room.

I quickly turned around to hide the fresh, hot tears that started to streak freely down my cheeks. "Wit' all due respect, _monsieur_, if we don't find 'im, you won't 'ave to worry about _moi _anymore."

Without another word and without looking back, I left the room.

**Comments are highly appreciated And I've actually starting learning French, so everything in French from now on will be considerably more accurate :D I'm not sure who all is still here because I've been bad about updating this, but I did re-write all of the earlier chapters and I'm determined to continue on. If you wish to see me or get to know me a bit more, I'm much more active on Youtube and make a video every week- LucidlyJackie**


	25. Starry Angel

**Hey everybody! I've decided that I want to try to write at least one chapter every two weeks, but it might get a bit iffy over the next few months when marching band season starts. Anyways, enjoy!**

I sat on the white, sterile-looking floor in front of a large circular door marked by a large 'X.' The door to Cerebro. I could feel Logan's eyes staring me down from the other side of the hallway. He was stood with his shoulders rested against the wall, one ankle over the other, arms folded across his chest.

A scowl was scribbled across his face, but that seemed to be a permanent part of his facial expression.

I tried not to pay too much attention to him. Instead, I gently rolled Diamond's last crystal-clear tear between my fingers. What did she want me to do with it? I could feel the warmth of her body radiating lightly from the depths of the tear, welcoming and content like a hearth in the midst of winter.

The darkness inundating my body constantly crashed down my insides in torrents, beating my lungs and leaving me breathless. I tried to ignore it, but the pain was so much that I often fell to the ground, unable to breathe. Luckily none of the X-Men had seen this happen to me so far- though they were temporary allies, they were by no means friends. I had to stand strong.

But as the tear grew warmer and warmer, pulsating between my fingertips, the tsunamis and storm surges weakened to waves, then to soothing tides. The suffocating, infinite darkness- now seeming more like a dull shade of gray- trickled down my arms, through my hands, and to the tips of my fingers. It didn't dare reach out to touch its beauty, but simply stayed burning at my fingertips and admiring in awe.

I hadn't realized at the time, but Logan was staring at me intently while I the darkness changed inside of me, observing and carefully noting every flicker of the eyelid and twitch of the mouth. He didn't dare say anything to break me from my trance, but he didn't particularly want to leave me in it either.

An irrational, sudden urge swept over me and I shoved the tear into my mouth, swallowing hard and forcing it down my throat. I choked and gagged as the warmth turned to a burning sensation in my throat, and Logan ran forward to prevent me from falling over on my side.

The flames of the tear licked my throat, searing my insides on the way down to the pit of my stomach. But as this was happening and despite the pain, I could feel the darkness retreating to the recesses of my arms and legs, desperately fleeing the heat.

As the tear settled in my stomach, I could feel it start to seep through my veins and arteries, then through my tiny capillaries, stretching through each part of my body. The darkness wasn't able to run fast enough and was disintegrated with the outstretching warmth.

I curled up as tight as I could on the floor as Logan clawed through the X-door to get to the Professeur. I wanted to tell him not to, disrupting him while operating Cerebro was dangerous, but I couldn't manage to pry open my own jaws.

Hot tears streamed freely down my face, but I felt relief as the pain slowly ebbed. I was just uncurling when the Professeur rolled out of the perfectly spherical Cerebro room, breathing a deep sigh of relief.

The darkness that had been plaguing me, stealing my body from its own owner, was gone. Vanquished. Vanished.

Forever.

"Rhianna, are you okay?" The Professeur leaned over, concerned.

Normally, I would have thought of some sarcastic, snarky response to that, but I started laughing. It wasn't the maniacal, insane laugh that had overtaken my vocal chords recently, or the uneasy, uncertain laugh from my childhood years with… _him_. It was a light, tinkling sound. Uplifting. Spirited. Inspiring.

It just made me laugh more, and tears sprung from my eyes anew, but a smile was stretched practically from cheek to cheek. I could feel all of the joyous moments Diamond had with her sister Obsidian, the dances, the songs, the chants. I could feel the knowledge that she possessed, present but still just out of my reach and comprehension. I could feel the pang of grief that she felt next to her sister's corpse, but also the joy as she was lifted to the sky and reunited with her sister to stay forever.

Reality came back to me like a stone to the stomach. I jerked up, losing the smile and wiping my cheeks with my grungy sleeves as I did so, remembering my quest.

"So… where is he?" I held my breath and looked deep into the Professeur's dark, contemplating eyes.

"I've been tracking the location of the Acolytes for some time now, and was able to see you two staying in the same place for a short period of time, both using your powers quite often, and then Pyro staying there after you left. Since then- just a few hours ago, I believe- he started on the move again. He's going at a slow pace, I would guess on foot, but just a few minutes ago I lost him. He hasn't used his powers recently enough for the essence to be detected. But he's moving alone, and the most recently that I saw him was in the heart of New York City." I fought the urge to cry again- I had been doing that too much recently-as he continued, "And you have a friend coming to visit." I cocked my eyebrow, and a moment later the doorbell rang.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx

"Piotr!" I exclaimed, running towards the gentle giant of a man. He seemed surprised by the gesture, but caught me in a hug anyways.

Once again, reality kicked in, this time in the form of several blurted questions. "Where iz Remy? _Et_ Magneto? What 'appened to zhe Acolytes? Why are you 'ere? Are you okay? _Est-ce que Magneto est fâché?_ 'Ow did you know _où je suis?_" He started to open his mouth, but I just hugged him again anyways, desperate for something familiar in this strange place.

"It doesn't matter. Zhank you for coming."

He awkwardly backed up, and reached into his large jacket for something. Logan tensed, ready to pounce, but another smile lit up my face as he pulled out a small canvas.

"Zhe painting…" I whispered, amazed that he had remembered it. The search for Magneto's helmet seemed to have happened forever ago. He turned it around so I could see the front, and I was frozen in awe at its beauty.

Just like the picture in my mind had been, the bluish-black night sky swirled across the once-white canvas in smooth streaks while small white stars scattered through the sky like a billion white tears. Darker parts of the sky emphasized the glory of the universes placed onto this stretched cloth by a skilled hand and brush, each constellation having just the right twinkle.

"It's so beautiful…" I reached out for it gingerly, putting just enough pressure on the canvas to not let it fall to the ground. Piotr released it and the weight fell firmly into my hands, feeling much heavier than it should have. The world- the universe- in my hands. I promised to protect it, not realizing that I murmured my promise out loud, holding it fast to my chest.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As I lay in my cold, unfamiliar bed, I started to think about the letter I had found in my old home.

_No, _I berated myself crossly, _my old house. Not my old home._

The one my… father… had left for me. I reached into the pocket of my jacket- dirty and stained from my refusal to take a shower- and pulled out the crumpled envelope, amazed. Had it really just been a few weeks ago that I retrieved it?

I grimaced at how disgusting I felt from lack of bathing, but I couldn't bring myself to strip naked in this cold, unfamiliar place. I was sick of feeling vulnerable.

I set down the painting beside me on the bed, slowly peeling off the faded, water-stained envelope seal. Sternly reminding myself to breathe, I ripped it open, leaving myself with just a plain, folded sheet of paper.

I slowly opened it, instantly recognizing my father's untidy scrawl. He seemed to have written it in a hurry, like someone who was afraid of forgetting what he wanted to write.

_My Dear Rhianna,_

I winced.

_You have to kill me._

My eyes flew wide with shock.

_There's a monster taking over my body, destroying me bit by bit. The darkness lingers in my veins and no matter how I try, I can't get rid of it. _

_ I go through periods of insanity and sanity, sometimes I think I'm a child again and sometimes I feel twice my age. Sometimes I remember every detail of my life and sometimes I can't remember what I did yesterday, or your mother's voice. My heart feels different, my lungs aren't mine. My voice isn't mine, my laugh isn't mine. _

_ Don't forget that I love you always, please don't forget it. No matter what I do or so, I love you with all my heart._

_ I'm going to hurt somebody. I don't know who, or how, or when, but I will. You need to end me. But if you meet me before reading this, it probably won't be hard to. _

_ I tried to do it myself, I held a gun to my head, closed my eyes, and squeezed. But no matter how hard I pressed down on the trigger, the darkness inside me was pulling my finger away, forcing the tip of the gun from my head. I wasn't allowed to do it. It won't allow me._

_ Don't be afraid, my little angel. __Tu es plus forte que tu penses._ (You're stronger than you think)

_-Papa_

I fell into tears for the final time that day. I fell into dreams thinking of my poor father, desperate to the point of asking his own daughter to murder him. I fell into dreams thinking of Pyro, lost and wandering through a city that refuses to sleep and always keeps a watchful eye on 'freaks.' I fell into dreams thinking of my mother, the beautiful Victoire, who married and monster and gave birth to one before falling to her own internal monsters.

Mostly, I thought of the darkness that had made its home in me and the pain that Diamond went through to expel it from my body.

But I also thought about the ring that Amethyst used to wear, with a small hardened purple tear, and wondered what monsters she was trying to protect herself from.

**Thanks for reading! I know how I want to end the story now, but it'll have some chapters more, so don't leave too soon XD**


	26. On the Streets of New York

**I realize that I'm horribly irregular with updates and have decided to stop making promises, but I'll do what I can. Enjoy!**

I walked through the door into my battered apartment. The hinges protested as I closed the door shut, taking caution not to twist it off the frame on accident. The maintenance man of the building was kind enough, but overworked and plagued by exhaustion.

Deciding to bring him some coffee or something later, I walked into the bathroom, almost jumping at the girl in the mirror. I never had gotten used to my own face.

I remembered the night I lost it. I had refused to see the Professor or any of the X-Men, any other living mutant, in fact, and had been living in the streets of New York as a homeless person. I was walking in the dark to a shelter that I had come to know very well when a black car pulled up next to me, rolling its window down.

There were three men inside, and two were visibly drunk (one being the driver), while the other sat in the back, looking extremely uncomfortable.

"Hey, baby," the driver had purred, his speech slurred by incessant quantities of alcohol, "Care to go for a spin?" I tried to ignore them, I really did. I put my head down and tried to walk away as fast as I could. But the car followed.

"Do you not hear me, you little bitch?!" He grew angry. "Get back here!" I heard the car door slam open and closed, and I started to run. Though I received an adequate amount of food for survival from human pity and charity organizations, I had grown thin and weak from my time on the streets. I was overtaken easily and pushed to the cold sidewalk.

I curled up with my hands around the back of my neck in a feeble attempt to protect myself. I could hear the other car door open and an extra pair of boots on the pavement. I tensed my entire body, waiting for the blow. The men, however, had a different idea in mind.

Never before had I hated more than in that moment. I charged my skin with what little energy I had left and shoved my bare hand against his face as he tried to pin me to the concrete. The scream, that awful scream.

But I didn't stop. I was furious, and for a moment, I was enveloped in pure hatred. I had gotten back up to my feet, hand still gripped around his cheek and jaw, and was glowering down at him. He tried to beg for mercy, and as his friends watched in horror, his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to the concrete. His body was alive, but no soul or mind remained.

"John, get in the car! She's a mutant!" The more sober of the two yelled. My heart melted and I fell to my knees. _John, John, John_. I hated the man in front of me with all my being, but I did not have the energy or will to do more harm. My actions dawned upon me as I looked at the limp body on the sidewalk and the black car drove away.

That was how I became a criminal.

I suppose I had been a criminal before, but I was never known. I had never before had an artist's rendition of my face on the 6 o' clock news, never had to hide out. I was anonymous before, but now all of the United States knew of me. That's why I had to attempt physically altering myself beyond recognition.

That same night, I used money I had saved up from odd jobs to get a room at Motel 6 and buy the supplies I would need. I took some old, rusty scissors and chopped off my long, wavy hair as tears ran down my face. It was no more than a few inches long in any place after my brutal barber treatment, but it was even shorter on the sides. I bleached my hair and dyed it purple, a brilliant hue that reminded me of Amethyst's skin. I cried again when I saw the stranger in the mirror.

The next part was harder, and I desperately tried to calm down as I took out an at-home piercing kit from the plastic Walmart bag. I did whatever disinfecting I could before stabbing the needle repeatedly through my ears, my right eyebrow, and the left side of my nose.

When I once again looked at myself in the mirror, with blood dripping into my eye and down my upper lip, I wondered if even Pyro would be able to recognize me. That's also when I decided to start wearing makeup. I had never had use for it before, but realized that it could be used as a powerful tool in masking my identity. I never again took to the streets without a mask to cover my true face.

Now, it's been more than a year since I lost Pyro in the city that never sleeps. I decided to take the Professor up on his offer to visit weekly, but little progress had been made. According to the Professor, all of the creatures I once held dear were figments of my imagination, but grief had forced me to give up such childlike fantasies. The only thing stopping me from seeing them again was my refusal to believe that they never truly existed. What was left was a pure buzzing feeling that moved freely throughout my mind and body, taking no one form or figure.

I had gotten more involved in crime since then. Pickpocketing, burglary, arson, assault, 'persuasion,' drug trafficking, forgery, vandalism, I did it all. I'd worked paid (for mutants and humans) and gone solo, never having trouble finding work in this time of terror. Sometimes, on lonely nights when the darkness and emptiness of my apartment seemed to consume me, I thought of Alexandrine and what she would think of what I'd become. The monster I'd allowed myself to become, the monster she had insisted I wasn't.

Whenever I found a clue that carried me closer to Pyro, it led to a dead end. He almost never used his powers, probably to avoid the strict laws that were recently passed on mutant registration. It saddened me to know that even if he chanced upon me in the crowded streets of the city, he probably wouldn't even recognize me. I tried to move every few months to avoid anyone arousing suspicions about my 'work' and registration status (housing forms required mutant and registration status now), and always made it clear to the landlords that I wouldn't stay for long.

There was no other way.

I sighed. Tomorrow would be Saturday, my day to visit the Professor. I doubted that the visit would go any differently than before, but I decided to hold to my promise as I collapsed into bed without taking off my makeup or undressing.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I left a cup of coffee on the maintenance man Javier's desk with a sticky note saying:

'I thought you might appreciate it

-Rhianna'

before I continued out the door. Thankfully, the public transportation system in New York is effective if not fabulous, and I was able to get out to Bayville using the subway, then a bus.

I was no longer required to ring the doorbell or call in, as the entire manner had grown accustomed to my presence. Those who originally were suspicious, though I could hardly say that the 'liked' me, were no longer threatened by my weekly appearance on their doorstep. As had become custom, I let myself in through the front door and walked up to the Professor's office.

Like every other Saturday since that night, I sat down in the chair before his desk and asked him if there was any news.

But unlike every other Saturday since that night, the Professor looked up from his folded hands and told me, "Perhaps. I think we may have found him."

My heart leaped in my chest and my stomach churned, a dull ringing sound filled my ears and my blood boiled all at once.

"Wh-where?" I managed to choke out, staring at my knuckles go white as they gripped the antique armrests of the chair I was sitting in.

"Are you familiar with Mott Street?"

I nodded. One a narrow street in Chinatown, Mott Street had become a hub and safe haven for mutants and crime. There were always look-outs and a place to rest for any mutant who needed it, and it was heavily and anonymously guarded, ready to move should the police catch a whiff of what was taking place there.

"I have detected his signature multiple times there this past week, and have reason to believe that he is taking refuge there. "

I nodded again, unsure of my next course of action. It had occurred to me before to check Mott Street, but the mere idea of conversing or associating with other mutants seemed unreasonably dangerous to me. Not to mention the difficulty of proving that no harm is meant, even from another mutant like myself. Nobody could be trusted. Any mutant that passed through those doors could be a government spy, a traitor.

Still, I had to find him. Whatever it took. I shuddered as I thought of the possibilities. Maybe he didn't care about me anymore. Maybe he thought I was dead, and had moved on. Maybe the Professor made a mistake, or he was just passing through Mott Street. Anything was possible.

But still. I had to try. I took a deep breath and continued my session with Xavier.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I looked up and down the curved boulevard, standing next to the sign that labeled this as 'Mott Street.' Night was starting to blanket the sky, and I knew that coming during the day was useless. While the sun was out, life continued as usual on the street for the humans.

I set off walking down the sidewalk, unsure of what else to do. To be honest, my goal was only to be able to find Pyro. I didn't dare plan anything after that. At the very least, I would know that he's alive. It was all that I could expect from him.

Before long, I became aware of a figure shadowing me down the darkening street. The figure was very slender and wearing a loose-fitting hoodie and pants, so I was unsure of the gender of my pursuer.

So concentrated was I on the shadowy figure that I didn't notice the much larger one looming in front of me until I almost ran into him.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" I tried to take a step back, but my wrists were grabbed from behind and held in a tight grip behind my back.

Under the lamplight, I could get a good look at the man in front of me. He was, frankly, huge. I had never been considered particularly short, but had to crane my neck to look up at his face. He was wearing multiple layers of clothes to protect against the October chill, and because of his full-length coat I couldn't tell if the bulge was muscle or fat.

"Where do you think you're running off to?" Panic and bile rose in my throat, but before I could make a move, I felt a sharp pain stab through my body like a knife, and I fell to my knees.

"Please, listen to me," I hissed through my teeth, "I'm trying to find someone, a mu-" I cried out as another bolt of pain rushed through my body.

"What do we do with her?" asked the figure behind me.

"Best to play it safe and take her to the boss."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I was terrified. Truly and utterly terrified. I had been taken (rather roughly, might I add) to what appeared to be abandoned textile factory at the end of the street and made to sit on my knees in the center of the room until the 'boss' came.

There were mutants strolling around, entering and leaving smaller rooms, hanging around. Some of them looked over at me with mild curiosity, but the presence of a stranger didn't seem too much like a foreign idea to them. I tried to focus on the ground in front of me and ignore the pins and needle settling in my legs.

I gathered that the giant of a man I met earlier in the street was called Ursu, and the woman who had grabbed me from behind was called Bolt. I didn't need to wonder where her name came from.

I felt excitement and anticipation build up in the room, and I sensed that the boss was coming. I kept my gaze firmly planted on the floor, bracing myself for the worst. The door was pushed open behind me, and I closed my eyes, wishing for the nightmare to end. I could hear his boots walking around me in circles, sizing me up to decide if I was a threat.

Unprompted, Ursu said, "Bolt an' I found her wanderin' the streets 'lookin' for someone.' People come here to hide, not to be found, and she seem' right suspicious walkin' the streets at night like that. She carry herself like a dangerous person," he added as an afterthought.

The boots stopped in front of me, and I peeked my eyes open. The boots made no move to harm me, so I looked up into their owner's face. A face I knew all too well.

"_Pyro?"_

His eyes widened in shock and then narrowed, searching my face for signs of recognition. It slowly dawned upon him, something he wasn't quite sure he believed.

"_Rhianna?_"

**Hopefully this wasn't what y'all were expecting to read, and for those of you who are still here, thank you and forgive me for posting so irregularly!**

**I feel I should tell you that I frequent Youtube much more than , so if you want to see me making videos on a weekly basis and get to know me a bit better, go to LucidlyJackie**


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